


Ashes, Ashes

by WanderingCreep



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Fire, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Superpowers, Symbolism, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:23:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3995221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingCreep/pseuds/WanderingCreep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler has just found himself standing barefoot outside of his flaming apartment at midnight, and his cute neighbor is nowhere to be found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. we all fall down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part i

 

Tyler has found himself outside in the middle of the night, barefoot and in nothing but a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt, standing before the flaming pyre that had been his apartment building. He’d been among the other tenants who had been awakened by the shrill whoop of the building’s ancient fire alarms and was sent racing down the stairs into the parking lot. Now they were all milling about, people crying and coughing, while the constant crackle and snap of the flames licking at the dark sky filled the air.

“The fire department is on their way!” cries someone. The shout is swallowed up, though, by someone else calling, “Someone’s still in there on the third floor!”

That was Tyler’s floor.

He looked around frantically, trying to figure out who was still stuck up there in the burning complex: Wanda? No, she was trying to calm some crying kids. Casey? Nope, she was standing close by, talking on her cellphone. Mike and his wife were standing off to the side, old Mrs. Philips was clutching a photo frame she’d saved to her chest, looking distraught, and Jake was standing a few feet in front of Tyler, filming the fire with his phone.

Tyler realized with a sickening churn in his stomach that he didn’t see his neighbor anywhere, the cute one with the red hair that stuck up all the time.

Tyler has no idea what is possessing him to even entertain the idea of what he’s about to do next, except maybe letting the wrong head do his thinking for him. No, he’s not getting off on the thought of being his neighbor’s saving grace, he’d just rather him be unhurt and alive so that Tyler can spend more time watching him come home from work-wherever that is-from his window.

It’s not creepy at all.

(They've really only spoken once.)

Tyler pushed the thought aside and let his legs do what his possessed mind wanted them to do, which was race towards the burning yellow blaze that was his apartment. He ignores the surprised shouts of his fellow tenants and continues sprinting towards the building.

When he gets inside through the front door that hasn’t yet become blocked by flaming debris, he pulls his shirt up and over his nose and looks around frantically for the stairs. The complex looks so different now that its on fire, and Tyler can feel himself becoming disoriented, like, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all? What if he can’t even find the third floor in this mess?

There’s a loud snap like thunder and some of the ceiling caves in over Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler yelps and jumps away, picks a direction because there is no time to be standing here debating himself, and heads that way. He needs to hurry; Josh needs him.

Its not easy running around barefoot inside a burning building, but the adrenaline pumping through Tyler’s veins is enough to stave off any pain that comes from his reckless abandon. His shirt still up and over his nose, Tyler shouts Josh’s name over the roar of the flames and the creaking, cracking moans of the apartment building. He finds the stairs and is relieved to find that they haven’t caved in yet. There’s still time.

He thunders up the first flight, careful to listen for any voices that might be calling out to him after his own calls die away.

“Josh!”

Second floor.

Access to the second floor has been destroyed as the ceiling caves in on itself in a flaming heap right as Tyler stumbles by. Glancing back the way he came to make sure his path is still somewhat clear, Tyler goes up, up to the third floor and here is where the flames are the worst. The floor is on fire.

This was definitely not one of Tyler’s best ideas.

“Josh!” Tyler screams. Maybe he can make it out if he hears that someone has come back for him. “Josh!”

What if he was unconscious?

Tyler swears inwardly. There’s a patch of carpet up ahead that isn’t too badly burned, but it’s too far away for Tyler to reach unless he jumps. Tyler backs up a few steps as far as he can without hitting the wall at his back, and takes a running jump, hoping he doesn’t miss.

He lands it, feet touching the ground and a wall of heat licking at his back, windmilling his arms to regain his balance. It’s like a game of hopscotch, trying to find places on the carpet where he can safely step without getting burned to a crisp.

His shirt is damp with sweat now, having slid down from his nose. Tyler can smell his own wet skin mixed with the scent of burning wood and acrid smoke, nearly wants to vomit. He continues the world’s most dangerous game of hopscotch until he makes it to Josh’s door, room twenty-one. It’s closed, which means Josh hasn’t had a chance to escape. He must be trapped inside.

Tyler grabs the doorknob, shakes it hard and bangs on the door with his fist. “Josh! Josh, can you hear me? Are you in there?”

There is no response, and the door has stubbornly not given way. Tyler grabs hold of the doorknob again and throws his shoulder against the door, wincing at the intensity of the heat pouring from behind it. There’s definitely a blaze back there.

Tyler bangs against the door four more times until the hinges suddenly explode and the wood goes flying everywhere. A tall tongue of fire leaps into the air at Tyler’s bare feet and he jumps back, barely missing a nasty burn up his front side.

“Josh!” he shouts. His throat is scratchy and hot, and he coughs into his sleeve. They both need to get out of here now.

Tyler can barely see the apartment inside what with the smoke filling the air and his eyes and making them water. Tyler tries to think, tries to outsmart the fire blocking him from Josh in the apartment. He tugs his shirt over his head and prays to god that this works, because all of his other ideas seem to have been working against him up until this point, and bats at the flames with his shirt. The fabric catches fire a bit less easier than Tyler initially expected, still damp from sweat, and he manages to tame the blaze to a more manageable level to allow him to get into the apartment.

Tyler keeps calling Josh’s name, his body glistening with sweat and a little smudged with smoke and soot, moving at a tediously slow pace around the apartment for the sake of being thorough, and finally ends his search at the bedroom. The door is closed here too, and Tyler’s shoulder screams at him as he tries to barge into the room the same way he busted into the apartment. He’s not being a very good battering ram at the moment, his lungs full of smoke and tightening in coils around his muscles like iron bands. It takes longer than the first time to break through the door to the room on the other side and when he does, he finds that the blaze is even worse in the bedroom than anywhere else it seemed in the building. Part of him wondered if Josh had been the one to start the fire, since the mess is so awful here.

He scans the room, calling Josh’s name once again, and inwardly panics that his voice has become so hoarse and quiet. What if Josh can’t hear him?

He summons what’s left of his voice-a voice in the very back of his minds wonders if he’ll ever be able to sing properly after this, but he brushes it aside- and screams.

“JOSH!”

Something moves on the bed covered in flames and suddenly Tyler finds himself staring face to face with eyes the color of embers set into a pale face. He wonders at first if he’s just hallucinating from the lack of oxygen in the air and that the man in the fire is not actually there. But then he speaks.

“Taylor?”

Tyler either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Josh has just called him ‘Taylor’, and beckons to him frantically.

“Come on! We have to get out of here! Are you hurt?”

Josh stares at him for a long time in silence, and Tyler wonders if Josh thinks that he’s not really there, that maybe he’s suffocating in all this smoke and just hallucinating seeing him there. The building is coming down around them, but Josh doesn’t seem to notice. He just keeps staring with eyes that Tyler doesn’t recognize. He’s never seen eyes that looked like hot coals before.

“Josh, come on! Are you hurt? We have to get moving! The whole place is coming down!”

Josh looks confused.

“Why?” he says. Tyler resists the urge to run through the flames and just grab Josh, and shouts over the fire’s roar, “I’m trying to help you! Can you walk?”

Josh still looks confused, but he swings his legs off the bed and stands up in the middle of the blaze. Like there’s nothing even there.

Slowly he walks towards Tyler and the way out, seemingly unaware of his pant leg that was being eaten by a small flame working its way up his leg. Tyler panics and tries to pat it out, but Josh ignores the action and leads Tyler to the front of the apartment.

Tyler coughs violently, raising his arm to cover his mouth and nearly trips. His vision has started to blur and its become a struggle to breathe through all this smoke. He hears Josh’s voice in front of him.

“Can you walk?”

Tyler hacked again into the crook of his arm and weakly shook his head, his eyes tearing with the sting of smoke and the force of his coughing. He felt hands grab him and his arm slung over Josh’s shoulder, and suddenly they were moving. Tyler could feel his feet dragging along the carpet, stumbling as he tried to keep up with Josh’s brisk pace while he had his grip on him.

“You weren’t supposed to come back for me,” Tyler thought he heard Josh mumble, but the ringing in his ears and the black prickling at the edges of his vision made focusing on anything a struggle.

He isn’t quite sure how Josh manages to get them across the floor without reenacting Tyler’s haphazard hopscotch game through the flames, nor is he sure how Josh gets them down the stairs so quickly. He just knows that when he opens his eyes again-when had he ever closed them?- the night sky is above him prickled with stars and jumping high with flames. Faces appear over him, ashen and wearing bright yellow hats and gear. He coughs, suddenly breathing much easier than he had been in the building, though not by much, and feels something covering his face. The ground is hard underneath him and he can hear frantic voices all around him, the hiss of high-pressurized water and the sizzle of flame.

Someone shines a light into his eyes, coaxing him to keep them open when he winces and shuts them again at the harshness of it.

“Can you hear me, sir?” asks one of the faces. It’s a woman’s voice.

Tyler nods weakly. The face smiles. “That’s good. We’re giving you oxygen now, just keep this mask on and try to take even breaths, okay?” She pats his arm.

Tyler twists his head, looking for something.

“Whrsss Josh?” he asks weakly, his throat still crackling and thick. He wants some water or something, or else he might start breathing fire very soon.

The woman smiles gently and nods. “He’s fine. He told us that you came back for him, but you had already had so much smoke in your lungs that you passed out before you made it out of there. He said he didn’t think anyone would find him” she says. “That was very brave of you.”

Tyler nods and closes his eyes. Josh was okay? Great.

That begged the question then: just what had happened in the first place?


	2. here we go

When Tyler wakes up again, the first thing he does is go to the bathroom and wash his face. When the ambulance had arrived at the hospital, the nurses and doctors had treated his wounds and cleaned him up, but he swore that he could still feel the smoke and sweat and soot clinging to his skin and couldn't wait to go home and have a proper hot shower, let the warm water wash away the memory.

Tyler frowned in the mirror. Home was burned down right now. Home was the motel he was staying in until he could find a new place to live. He looked down at the bandages around his shoulder. The doctors had told him he’d suffered second-degree burns from falling debris that had hit his shoulder and dislocated the joint-which Tyler hadn't even been aware of, thank god for adrenaline-and first-degree marks on the heels of his feet and around his legs. They would heal, they said, it would just take time.

Time and a lot of pain killers.

Otherwise, he was fine.

Tyler scrubbed at his face with his hands and hummed quietly, trying to get his throat back into the swing of things. After he’d made it out into fresh air and had been treated for, the panic had set in at the thought of smoke poisoning hindering his ability to sing. The doctors had assured him that he would be fine, but Tyler had his doubts. He just…needed to know that he could still carry a tune. He loved to sing. He loved the ukulele. Losing the ability to enjoy either of those things was not an option, so excuse him if he was just a little skeptical and cautious. He’d already asked the doctors for reassurance more times than he could count. He thinks they're starting to get a little annoyed.

Tyler starts a slow song, his voice low as he tries to get a feel for what he is doing, and gets sidetracked tapping his fingers against the white porcelain of the sink, miming piano keys. It’s a song he wrote months ago, still in the process of smoothing out a few edges, but he thinks that when it’s done, it will be amazing.

“ _Stay alive_

_Stay alive, for me,_

_You will die, and now your life is free,_

_Take pride in what is sure to die_ ,” he sang.

Tyler is still singing softly as he exits the bathroom, and yelps in a most undignified manner when he sees Josh standing in his room.

They stare at each other similar to the way they had the day before, bewildered and somewhat shocked to see each other, Tyler especially, because he knew that he had never really given Josh any reason to care enough about him as to come visit him in the hospital. And didn't he call him ‘Taylor’ when he first saw him in the apartment? Did he even know Tyler’s name?

Brushing that thought aside, Tyler speaks first.

“Uh, hi.”

Josh nods. “Hi.”

They go silent again for a long few minutes, Tyler shuffling back and forth on his feet and Josh just staring at the floor.

“You have a nice voice,” says Josh suddenly. Tyler starts, surprised by the sudden comment and nearly forgets to respond.

“Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” Josh asks, finally looking directly at Tyler as he speaks. His eyes drift over to the bandage on Tyler’s shoulder and then return to the floor almost immediately after. Tyler shrugs, an action he immediately regrets when his burn pulls uncomfortably. “I’m okay. Are you?”

Josh nods mutely. “I’m fine. I didn’t even get hurt. Not like you did.”

Tyler scratches his arm awkwardly, at a loss for what to do next. And then he remembers the hazy details from the night before. But before he can ask about it, Josh speaks again.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry this happened. You-no one was supposed to come back. I tried to time it just right after I pulled the alarm so that everyone could get out safely, but you came back for me and that wasn’t what I wanted to happen-“

Josh was nearly hyperventilating as he spoke, and Tyler blinked in dazed confusion at him. Had Josh just confessed to burning the apartment building down?

“Wait, are you saying… _you_ caused the fire?” Tyler interrupted. Josh nodded miserably. Tyler blanched and struggled for words. Was the guy he had a thing for an arsonist or something?

“Why? You just burned down a ton of people’s homes!”

“I know,” Josh murmured.

“What if everyone hadn’t gotten out safely? You could have killed them!”

Josh screwed his eyes shut. “I know, I know. I wasn’t really thinking straight at the time. I just wanted…”

He sighed in defeat and dropped into one of the chairs pushed against the wall, looking worn out and tired. Tyler stared down at him, surprised at how small Josh looked, how troubled and betrayed.

“Why did you set the apartment on fire?” Tyler asks quietly. Josh remains unresponsive for a few minutes before sighing heavily and answering.

“It’s been hard living with myself these past few years. I’ve never been really good at controlling myself-sometimes when I play drums I can keep it together, but sometimes it just…gets out of hand. There’s something wrong with me,” Josh says glumly.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Tyler tells him. “Sometimes you just need someone to help you get through things.”

Josh shook his head. “You can’t help me.”

“I can try,” Tyler persisted.

“I won’t let you,” Josh counters sharply. Tyler doesn’t understand why Josh is being so stubborn. He exhales. “Why not?”

“I don’t want you to get tangled up in my issues. I’ve already injured you once.”

Tyler realizes that Josh never actually answered his question, though he has a pretty good idea of what it would’ve been. He’d been there before, after all. He told Josh as much.

“That’s why I want to help you. You don’t have to face something like that alone.” Tyler ducked his head and looked at the floor. Josh didn’t reply, and Tyler couldn’t feel eyes on him.

“Is that why when I found you, you were just lying there in bed?” Tyler asks quietly. He remembers the flames lapping around the bed, Josh lying there as though everything was okay, waiting for the flames to consume him. It makes Tyler hurt.

 Josh freezes completely, like he’s holding his breath even.

“…yeah,” is all Josh says. And that’s all Tyler needs to make it his mission to save Josh, though this time, he’s going to make sure he does it right.

Tyler almost forgets to ask Josh why he had red eyes that night, but he supposes he’ll get to that later.

“Do you have any idea where you’re staying?” he asks him. Josh still won’t look at him. “I’ll manage.”

Tyler frowns. “I don’t mind sharing. I’m staying in a motel until I can find a new place to live. The room has two beds.”

“You’re persistent, you know that?”

Tyler smiles. “I want to help you some way,” he says, and he isn’t just trying to get on Josh’s good side either. He genuinely feels responsible for making sure his (attractive) neighbor is taken care of, especially after he had ended up being the one to do the actual rescuing the night before. “I’m Tyler, by the way. Tyler Joseph,” says Tyler.

Josh looks up at him. “I know. I had to come find you.”

“It’s just that yesterday night, you got my name wrong. We’ve only really spoken once, so I wasn’t sure if you remembered my name.”

Maybe it’s just Tyler’s imagination, but he swears he sees Josh’s cheeks flush a soft shade of pink and tries to bite down on a smile when Josh sheepishly apologizes. Tyler goes to sit on his bed, running a hand over his bandages. “My offer still stands, you know,” he says warmly. “I really don’t mind and I do want to help you.”

Josh is silent for a long time. Tyler sits and waits, taking this time to enjoy the way Josh’s red hair always looks fluffy and unkempt no matter what, the taut muscles of his arms, muscles that must have come from playing drums as Josh had mentioned earlier. He’s just now getting lost in the green tattoos on his left arm when Josh suddenly speaks up, making Tyler jolt. He hopes he didn’t catch him staring.

“I’ll pay half the rent,” is all Josh says. “So you don’t have to pay by yourself.”

That’s all Tyler wants to hear for now.

 

 

 

Josh gives off heat like a radiator.

Tyler is sitting across from him on the other bed and he can feel the heat coming off of him in waves. Josh is fidgeting restlessly on his bed and hasn't even broken a sweat. It’s been a whole day since the hospital let Tyler check himself out and move into the motel, and Tyler still hasn't gotten much out of Josh, who is pretty much a mystery at this point, and Josh doesn't seem too ecstatic to give any details away.

The only thing Tyler really knows is that the hot water is usually almost gone when he gets into the shower and the air in the bathroom is so thick with steam after Josh leaves the shower that it’s hard to breathe. That, and sometimes, when Josh doesn't think anyone is watching, Josh taps pencils or pens or even his fingers against the bedside table, or the sink or something, and then abruptly stops. He always looks disappointed when he does, but at himself. Tyler thinks that’s weird, but still hasn't made an effort to question him on it. He probably just misses his drums, which must’ve burned up in the apartment.

Tyler’s ukulele wasn't saved either, and that stung a bit, but he knew that he should just be grateful to be alive after the stunt he pulled last night. There were moments where he thought he wouldn't actually make it out of the apartment in one piece.

Maybe Josh is cold-natured. Tyler highly doubts that since Josh runs around the room without a shirt on most of the time, but Tyler’s _definitely_ not complaining, no sir. At night, when the lights are out and the only source of illumination is the dull streetlamp outside, Tyler swears he can see a flame in Josh’s hand. He’s sleepy and bleary-eyed when he sees it, and mumbles around his tongue thick with sleep, “I didn't get a smoking room. You should probably go outside with that lighter, or the owners are going to be mad.”

Josh jumps in the dark. He probably thought Tyler was asleep.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. He doesn't try to correct Tyler, or tell him that he doesn't own a lighter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos, everyone! I was actually really scared that no one would like this story, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kudos! :)


	3. lights out

Tyler likes summer storms.

He likes to hear the thrum of rain on the roof and the foggy glass of the windows and the smell of the atmosphere that fills the earth. He even likes the thunder and lightning, likes to see the violent arcs of white light shoot across the sky like pitchforks and hear how close the storm is by counting the beats in between lightning strikes and thunder rolls.

So when the thick, dark cumulonimbus clouds of a summer storm come crawling across the sky, Tyler is thrilled. He has the motel room drapes pulled back to expose the window and the lights out, sitting on his bed with a new notebook from the dollar store down the street and a pen in hand. The raindrops are already beating against the glass and frosting it, streaking like invisible fingers as they drip down the window.

Tyler kind of wants to open the door and let the smell of wet earth overtake the room, but he thinks that would be a little much and he has a guest, who probably wouldn't be too happy about the wet air invading their room. Tyler glances back at said guest, momentarily drawn away from the storm to watch Josh doze peacefully on his bed.

Josh is a cute napper, Tyler thinks. He sleeps kind of curled in on himself, arms tucked against his chest, one hand under the pillow at all times and the other resting by his head. His mouth is always slightly open, and more than once has Tyler entertained the idea that Josh sleeping open-mouthed would be the perfect opportunity for open-mouthed kisses to surprise him awake.

Tyler flinches at the jump in his jeans, crosses his legs even though no one is awake to call him out on his overeager bodily functions. He decides that he and Josh need a little more time to bond and get to know each other (even though Tyler knows quite a few things about his cute neighbor already) before any kissing, open-mouthed or otherwise, can occur.

Something flashes out the corner of his eye and he turns just in time to see the lightning fade away across the sky. His attention returns to the storm and his notebook, and for a few hours the only sounds inside the motel room is the scribble of Tyler's pen, the soft breathing of Josh and the rain pattering furiously at the window.

This, Tyler thinks, is nice. Momentarily, his mind wanders off into an imaginary life, where this is Tyler and Josh's bedroom, and they are here together, living their lives together on this rainy Sunday afternoon. He doesn't even mind the space between them, pretends that Josh is his and lying right beside him, his heart beating slow and steady, breathing quiet and soft. It leaves Tyler feeling light and floating, but all too quickly, the thunder growls like a feral dog outside and Tyler is dropped unceremoniously back into reality.

 He’s scrawling out a few new chord ideas in his notebook when the entire room lights up, like someone’s shown a spotlight through their window, and a roar of thunder actually shakes the motel.

Josh jerks awake, gasping slightly from waking in such a shock. “What was that?” he asks, still groggy from his nap. Tyler turns to see him and can’t stop the grin that pulls at his lips. Josh’s hair is even curlier and messier than usual, standing up slightly from where he slept on it and he looks so out of it-the expression reminds Tyler of a sleepy kitten. It’s adorable.

“Lightning is all. It’s fine,” he tells him and looks back through the window, “I wonder if it knocked out the power?”

Josh nods, though he looks a little spooked. Tyler hears him get up and shuffle to the bathroom and returns his thoughts to the storm outside, since it has become too dark to really see his notebook anymore. He reluctantly reaches over to the lamp on the bedside table and tries the switch. The little lever clicks, but the bulb remains dark and cold. Tyler tries it once more and sighs. A moment later, Josh steps back into the room.

“Power’s out,” he says simply and tiredly drops back onto his bed. Tyler watches as he rolls onto his side and pulls the top drawer of the bedside table open. He digs around inside for a moment and then closes it, opens the one underneath it. “What are you looking for?”

Josh looks up at him. “Candles. If one of us has to go to the bathroom or move around before the power comes back on, then it’ll be a lot safer to have candles around. So we don’t run into tables or trip over stuff in the dark, you know?”

Tyler nods. “Good idea.”

Josh makes a noise of triumph and holds up a pair of red candlesticks. “Awesome,” says Tyler. “Any matches?”

Josh looks back inside the drawer. “Nope,” he sighs. “Maybe the front desk has some?”

“Maybe.”

Tyler notices Josh looking at the door like a monster might burst into the room at any moment and sees him visibly blanch. Maybe he’s afraid of thunderstorms?

“I’ll go get them,” Tyler offers, already scooting off the bed. This makes Josh jerk back to attention, looking at Tyler like he’d just told him to jump off a bridge. “No, no, it’s fine,” he says, standing so quickly that Tyler freezes in his tracks. Josh scratches the back of his neck and looks sheepish. “It’s just, you've got that bum shoulder…you could slip in those rain puddles and make it worse or someone might not see you in this downpour and accidentally run you over. You shouldn't go out.”

And just like that, Tyler is suddenly rather wary of summer storms. Josh makes a good point. Josh takes a breath and crosses the room. He closes the drapes and submerges the pair in complete darkness, using his hands to feel his way back to his bed. Tyler thinks that its odd that Josh has closed them off from the world like this, curious as to what he was thinking.

When he makes it back and seats himself, Tyler hears him exhale, tight and nervous, and then silence. A heartbeat later, a little flame appears and pierces through the darkness. Josh’s face is shadowed, lit up in certain places, especially his eyes which shine a deep mahogany color. Funny, Tyler always thought they were black.

Josh looks up and sees Tyler watching and offers him a small smile, showing teeth. Tyler’s everything jumps then, and for a moment he fears he’s having a heart attack because his heart is beating so fast. There’s nothing sinister about seeing Josh this way, not even after Tyler knows that Josh is the one that burned down their apartment building because he was trying to kill himself.

“Oh, right,” Tyler hears himself say, “you have that lighter.”

Josh makes a face, a cross between guilt and acceptance, and hands Tyler the other candle. “Hold this still, okay?”

Tyler nods, thankful for the other candle’s light. Josh’s hands brush against Tyler’s as he hands the candle off to him, and it’s truly a miracle that Tyler doesn't burst into flames as well. He wonders if Josh can see his blush in the dim light. Josh looks at him like he expects something and says quietly, “You said you would help me.”

Tyler furrows his brows. “Yeah,” he says, not meaning for it to sound like a question. “I said you wouldn't have to do this alone,” he adds with more conviction. Josh pauses and then nods firmly. “You promise?”

He sounds so small and scared, there is no way Tyler can’t. “I won’t leave unless you want me to.” He’s surprised at how sure he sounds. He can see that Josh is too.

Josh takes a deep breath and positions his hand over the candle’s wick, pinching his thumb and middle finger together.

_Snap._

A little flame leaps to life across the pad of Josh’s thumb.

Tyler jumps and would have dropped the candle had Josh not had a grip around Tyler’s hands, cupping them supportively in his own calloused ones. The wick is consumed by the little flame, and Josh shakes his thumb out, leaving it surrounded by a gossamer-thin wisp of grey smoke. Josh watches Tyler fail at controlling his rising panic for a few silent moments, then carefully pulls the candle out of his grasp and carries it to the bathroom. In the few moments that he is gone, Tyler is oblivious to the storm raging outside in the darkness, but his breaths are coming as heavy and quick as the rain against the rooftop.


	4. matchsticks

“Friction,” Josh explains.

Tyler nods, still slightly wide-eyed and slack-jawed. At least he’s stopped hyperventilating. Josh is sitting on his bed again, hands clasped together tight and finding more interest in his feet than explaining himself to Tyler.

“Friction is what makes the flames. Or at least, that’s the easiest way for me; it’s like I’m a walking matchstick. I’ve tried manifesting fire before without having to,” Josh mimes snapping his fingers to explain, “but it’s harder to control and way more destructive.” Tyler is desperately trying to make sense of what Josh is telling him, trying not to give him any reason to doubt that Tyler will keep his promise of staying with him. He wants to help, he really does, but it’s a little tricky when you find out that the guy who lives across the hall from you is actually a pyrokinetic.

“Wait, wait,” Tyler says holding up his hands, “so…is that why you’re so hot?”

Josh opens his mouth, furrows his brow and then closes it again. Tyler swears he can see him blushing in the candlelight and immediately realizes what he’s done. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! I mean, _is that why you radiate so much_ _heat_ kind of ‘hot’, not attractive kind of hot,” he flounders, “not that you aren’t attractive, it’s just-“

Tyler gives up, dropping his head into his hands. He just can’t win it seems. Josh is still staring at him, but through the confusion he cracks a small smile and gives Tyler a soft laugh, surprising Tyler into actually looking at him again.

“It’s okay,” Josh says, “I get it. And, um, yes, that’s why I’m always so warm. I was wondering if you’d noticed already, but you never said anything about it.” 

Tyler barely nods and cradles his head in his hands, shaking it slowly back and forth. “Are you gonna be okay?” he hears Josh ask. Tyler has an answer ready to form on his tongue, but the only that comes out of his mouth is, “This is…so weird. This cannot happening. There is no way I’m not dreaming.”

Josh frowned. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says quietly, and Tyler can hear the hurt in his voice. He wants to take it back, but unfortunately his body is not cooperating with him like it should be. He just continues to block out the world behind his hands.

In the immediate silence that follows, Tyler hears the rustle of sheets and the sound of feet dropping to the floor. “Um, if…I can,” Josh begins and coughs awkwardly, “I can leave if you want me to.”

Tyler’s head shoots up then. His eyes are wide when he looks at Josh, like he might try to fight him if he moved one more inch. “No!”

Josh looks confused. Tyler lowers his voice and tries to breathe. _Get it together_ , he tells himself. _He needs you_.

“You don’t need to go anywhere. I just need time to process this,” says Tyler. He laughs humorlessly. “It’s not every day you find out your neighbor can make fire with his mind.” Josh nods slowly and hesitantly sits back down on his bed. He laces his fingers together and rests his elbows on his knees, watching Tyler for a few moments while he takes some deep breaths. Tyler thinks back for a moment, recalling the conversation he’d had with Josh in the hospital room, in which Josh had mentioned his lack of self-control and his fear that something was wrong with him. The fire, was that what he’d meant?

“Do the drums make it better?” he asks tentatively. “The flames, I mean.”

Josh nods. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

The drums were gone now. And Tyler had the feeling that the motel owners really wouldn’t be too appreciative of Josh and Tyler bringing a new set into their room.

“What if I helped you control the fire?”

Josh looks as stern now as he did when Tyler initially offered his help at the hospital. “No.”

“I’m not scared.”

Josh shook his head, a humorless grin on his face. “I can hear the waver in your voice.”

“You made me promise,” Tyler says, “that I wouldn’t leave you. I’m not going to break that promise now, so that means I’m helping.” Josh opens his mouth to say something, but Tyler cuts him off. “Stop trying to push me away, man. I’m trying to help you, I’m on your side! I’m not scared of,” he floundered for words for a moment and gestured to Josh’s entire being, “ _you_ -I mean, I _am_ scared, but not of your fire or your red eyes.”

Josh looks slightly taken aback. “Then what are you afraid of?”

“I…” Tyler trails off, the words suddenly lodged in his throat. _Losing you. Losing you to this dark place you’ve found yourself in. Just let me save you. I have to save you._ Josh is still waiting for an answer, looking no less confused or taken aback. Tyler sighs quietly.

“I don’t know.”

The storm doesn’t let up until morning.

 

 

 

Tyler is in love.

He knows this much as he shushes Josh, murmurs to him quietly and begs him to look at him, _look at him._ His hands are wet with Josh’s tears and his heart hurts so much more than the burn on his wrist. He’s holding Josh’s face in his hands, wishing he could kiss away the tears, but he knows that that would be crossing a line they have not yet reached. Josh is sobbing, but at least he isn’t in hysterics anymore. He didn’t want Tyler touching him at first, backed away into the wall when Tyler tried to reassure him that the burn wasn’t that bad, repeating over and over again, “ _I’m dangerous, I’m dangerous.”_

Much as Tyler wanted to shake him and kiss him and turn back time, he couldn’t. So he would settle for hunkering down on the tiled bathroom floor, holding Josh against him as he cried into his shirt, murmuring sweet nothings and mother’s coos and stroking his hair.

 

 

 

 

“One…two…three.”

Tyler slowly breathes out, almost exageratedly so. “Now, you try it. One…” He mouths the next few words silently as Josh mimics his actions from before, wordlessly encouraging him through the exercise. This is one of Tyler’s breathing exercises that his therapist from years ago had taught him. It had helped him keep some anxiety attacks at bay over the years, so why shouldn’t it help Josh maintain his…powers? Could they call them that? It wasn’t magic, at least Tyler didn’t think it was. Josh had only ever referred to them as an extension of himself, as in he couldn’t _control_ _himself._

Josh exhales slowly, eyes trained carefully on Tyler the entire time. _Think positively,_ Tyler had told him, _then inhale. On the third breath, you should breathe out all the negative thoughts. Think of something that makes you smile, then exhale all the dark thoughts. In…out…in…out._ Tyler smiles at him now. “Better?”

Josh nods. “Yeah.”

“You should try it a few times a day,” Tyler tells him. “That way when you really need to use it, you don’t have to think about it. It’ll come naturally.”

“Yeah. How do you know all this stuff?”

Tyler shrugs. “My therapist taught me. It was supposed to help me when I had really bad anxiety attacks, like, stop the full on panic attacks from happening.”

“Did it work?” Josh asks.

“Yeah,” Tyler says. “It’s saved me from freaking out too bad on a lot of occasions. I mean, I still get stressed out and stuff, but at least I know how I can help myself before it really takes me over. For you, it’ll be your fire.”

He stretches and moves to uncross his legs, wanting to congratulate Josh on his first breathing exercise, but blushes as his stomach rumbles, spoiling the moment. “Wow, okay. I’m starved. How about you? Taco Bell sound good to you?”

Josh nods, smiling brightly. “Yeah, sure.” As Tyler gets up to grab his shoes, he hears Josh say his name. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Tyler turns around to fully meet Josh. Josh is shifting from foot to foot, looking a bit shy and like he is trying to dull his gratitude and failing. “Thanks for trying to help me. For teaching me those breathing exercises and staying by my side this whole crazy week. And, um,” he looks a little pinkish now as he peeks at his shoes. He looks so cute it almost makes Tyler giggle right there. “Thanks,” Josh continues quietly, “for letting me cry all over your shoulder the other day. It’s just…you’ve been so good to me this entire time and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. Again.”

And Tyler wants to grab him and kiss him until they’re both breathless and red when he hears that. But he doesn’t. Not yet. Instead, he smiles his warmest smile, and tells Josh, “You’re welcome. And-“

What, I love you?

No. _Not yet._

“I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The breathing exercises are actually what my own therapist taught me. Thanks for reading!


	5. fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who left comments and kudos, or even took time to read this mess of words, thank you. Those are what keeps me writing. :)

The walk to Taco Bell is peaceful.

“Are there more of you?” Tyler asks as he and Josh walk side by side. There’s a Taco Bell a few blocks away from their motel and neither of them have the means to a car right now, so they opt to walk the short distance in the cool evening air. Tyler thinks walking after a rainstorm is nice, especially when it’s cool and the air isn’t so humid that it feels as though your clothes are about to come sloughing off your body.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the only Josh in existence, yes,” Josh replies, giving Tyler a smug sideways glance. Tyler can’t help the pink that spreads across his nose or the totally embarrassing giggle that rises high and shrill from his throat. It seems like Josh is actually starting to warm up to him. “That’s not what I mean. I meant, are there others like you who can make fire and stuff?”

Josh nods. “There’s a few. They live a ways around here, some of the others move around a lot. You might meet a few of them if you stick around. They’ll find me.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Tyler comments. Are they mean or evil or something? Josh shakes his head. “You’ll see when they get here.”

They reach Taco Bell in twenty minutes, which easily could’ve been reduced to a ten minute walk if both Tyler and Josh hadn’t gotten distracted by a woman walking her pack of corgis or the cat that meowed at them from an alley, only to run up a fire escape when Josh tried to pet it.

They order two Burrito Supremes and sit at a table to eat, which dissolves into mostly talking back and forth until the Supremes are lukewarm and the cashiers begin to give them odd lingering looks. The cheese has begun its slow process of hardening by the time they actually open the paper wrappers around their food.

“Oh,” Josh says, sheepishly. He rubs his hands together quickly for a few seconds, and Tyler swears he can see near transparent wisps of smoke rising from his rapidly vibrating palms. “Give me your burrito.”

Josh cradles the food in its paper wrapping in his hands for a moment or two, then returns it to Tyler. When Tyler takes it into his hands, the paper is wet with condensation where the burrito lay, and when he bite into it, he nearly burns his tongue.

“Whoa! That was…” he looks at Josh with wide, astounded eyes, and Josh smiles. Amazing.

Josh’s smiles are all teeth. His eyes crinkle around the corners in the most amazing way that just beams happiness. Tyler wants to see it all the time.

 

 

 

 

The walk from Taco Bell is not peaceful.

The sun has gone down by the time Tyler and Josh finish eating and finally decide to stop talking long enough to throw away their trash and leave. They go back the way they came, still chattering a mile a minute. They don’t see anyone else on the street. That doesn’t mean that no one is there.

Tyler is closest to the street, which leaves Josh closer to the alley. Tyler barely sees the hands reaching out from the darkness, and suddenly there is no time to react. The man in the alley grabs Josh first, slings him to the ground and plants a foot on his chest. “Wallet,” he barks, “and phone; _now!”_

He has a gun, a wicked glint off the black body that Tyler didn’t notice until the man stepped closer into the light of the streetlamp. Tyler’s mind draws a blank suddenly. He stands there, staring at the man and the weapon in his hands, and his thoughts trail slowly to Josh. They’re going to die here, because Tyler can’t fucking get his hands or his mind or his body to work. He hears something click, the gun being pulled off of safety, and the man barking something incoherently that Tyler’s mind is too sluggish to process. The only thing he knows is _bullet, blood, cold, dead…Josh._

_I’m sorry._

“TYLER!”

It’s Josh’s voice. Suddenly, there’s a shriek piercing through the night air. Tyler yelps and jumps back, wrapping his arms around his frame as though he’d been struck. The man staggers back against the alley wall and frantically swats at his leg, still screaming. His leg…it’s on fire.

Josh is towering over him now, and Tyler recognizes the scent of burning flesh. He almost retches right there on the sidewalk.

Josh grabs the man’s wrist, the one connected to the hand holding the gun and tears the offending object from him. From where Tyler is kneeling, he can see the white of Josh’s bared teeth, hear the growl rising in his throat and the sparks flying from between his fingers as he begins to _melt the gunmetal right there in the alleyway._

The black paint drips between heavy blobs of grey metal that oozes between Josh’s clenched fingers. The man is screaming even louder now, only this time, he’s speaking too.

“What the hell are you?!”

He seems strangely unaware of the fire creeping steadily up his leg and across his torso. Scraps of paper under Josh’s feet have begun to catch fire as well, the brick walls of the alley becoming brightly lit with the flames. Tyler can feel the intensity of the heat coming from Josh alone as though he were the one standing amidst the blaze. His attention is drawn away from Josh as something pops loudly behind him and something hard and pelting slaps across his skin like hard rain.

A parking meter has exploded by the street lamp and the heavy rain is the quarters contained inside, much to Tyler’s horror as he picks one up and slowly realizes what has happened. The remains of the meter are riddled with tiny flames, like a giant birthday candle, and the man in the alley is still screaming as the flames consume his upper body, the fire licking at his eyes and ears. Josh is unfazed as the chaos ensues around him, still retaining his death grip on the man. His shoulders shake with each labored breath he takes and in the fire light, Tyler thinks he can see him pale.

“Josh,” he croaks, choked with a fear he hasn’t known before, fear of this monster Josh has become. “Stop!”

Josh either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care enough to acknowledge him. The man keeps screaming, and it’s a wonder the octaves he’s reached as the whole half of his face becomes engulfed in fire. His one good eye darts towards Tyler, so wide it looks like it might pop out of the socket at any moment, beyond any worldly terror, a silent plea that only Tyler hears.

 _Make it stop_.

The loudest sound of all is the sound of his skin crackling and a pop like a water balloon hitting the pavement, and Tyler screams at the top of his lungs.

“STOP!”

There’s a falter in the flames, like they almost freeze in time, before Josh turns his head and looks back at Tyler.

Eyes like hot coals.

Tyler stares back, horrified. “Please, stop,” he manages. His voice is almost too quiet to be heard above the roar of the flames and the shrieks of the man on fire, but he knows Josh hears him. His face is reluctant and livid, but softens with every moment he keeps his gaze on Tyler. The small fires die away, growing smaller and smaller until they snuff themselves out. The flames consuming the would-be mugger slowly flicker out, working their way back down the man’s body and finally withering away. Josh is all that’s left.

He lets go of the man, watches him as he slides down the wall, moaning, and lies on the ground. Then he looks again at Tyler.

The man is unrecognizable. The better part of his body is a charred black mess, slick and red looking in some places like burned barbeque. The only part left of him that even resembles anything remotely human is the one eye that pleaded to Tyler, screwed shut now. His clothes have grafted to his body, a black, charcoal, like mess, and in some places, what Tyler recognizes as his legs, yellow-white peers through the black.

Tyler’s gaze trails back to Josh, whose eyes are steadily returning to their dark brown color. Josh stands still for a few moments, breathing hard and fast, and then grabs Tyler’s hand. He leads the way back to the motel, running for the both of them through the night, as voices begin gathering at their backs.

Someone has finally come to the rescue.

 

 

 

 

When they finally get to the motel, Josh retreats to the bathroom, slams the door and locks it. Tyler sinks to the floor, his back against the front door and tries not to hyperventilate. He’s failing.

He draws his knees up to his chest and rests his head on top of them, trying to take deep breaths and calm the fuck down. His heart is racing so quickly that it almost physically hurts and makes it harder to breathe. After all, how does one cope after watching a man be burned alive? At least Tyler hasn’t retched.

Immediately, Tyler throws open the door and vomits just outside the doorway, still on his hands and knees, unable to get farther away from the front door.

At least Tyler hasn’t retched all over the motel floor.

A pain in his wrist and hand makes him look himself over. He can barely see it in the dark, but through a sliver of light reaching in through the curtains, he can find the dark band around his wrist and the outline of red fingers across his palm. He curls his fingers and winces when they send sparks of pain shooting through his wrist. A burn.

It must’ve been from when Josh held his hand and ran with him back to the motel. At the time, he hadn’t noticed how hot Josh’s hands were, but then again, he hadn’t noticed much of anything, except that he’d come close to death twice that night. His head jerks up when he hears Josh retching violently in the bathroom, followed by coughing that sounds like it’s been on the tail end of tears. It hurts Tyler to hear it, but right now, he thinks he just needs to distance himself from Josh for a while. Needs to get his thoughts together. Needs to _calm. Down_.

He sits with his back to the door for almost an hour, when he finally realizes how quiet it is in the room. Earlier, he’d been aware of his own soft sobbing, but now, it was deathly silent.

The light is still on in the bathroom, but no sound comes from it. Not even the sound of feet or a sign of movement.

Tyler leans over and watches the door for a few minutes, wondering what happened. When nothing answers his question, he slowly rises, glancing at the digital clock as he passes.

11:11.

‘ _Make a wish_ ,’ he thinks to himself absently. ‘ _I wish we had never gone out tonight.’_

He taps on the door with his knuckles, almost too softly to be heard. “Josh?” his voice croaks with disuse and the ravage that throwing up had caused his throat. Josh doesn’t answer. “Josh?”

Tyler tries the doorknob, expecting it to still be locked. The knob twists and the door slowly swings open.

“Josh?”

Josh is curled up under the sink next to the toilet, almost as pale as the tile floor he’s lying on. Goosebumps have risen so tall on his skin that it makes him look lumpy, like the dragon tattooed on his arm has real scaly skin. He’s shivering, Tyler can see it like tremors from an earthquake and hear it in his breathing. Something is very wrong.

“ _Josh?”_

He kneels down and shakes Josh’s shoulder. “Josh, wake up. What happened?”

Josh is freezing, a startling contrast from the usual way he gives off heat like a furnace. It chills Tyler to the core-Josh shouldn’t be like this.

“Josh, come on, please wake up,” he tries again. “Tell me what’s wrong!”

Josh groans and mumbles something so low and incoherent that Tyler almost dismisses it as sleeptalk. “Josh, why are you so cold?” Tyler asks. “Tell me what to do to fix it.”

Josh doesn’t speak anymore. Tyler nearly has a panic attack worrying that Josh is about to die here under the sink. _Get a grip, Tyler,_ he scolds himself, _you have to think! Josh is in trouble. Think!_

It hits him then, and he feels really stupid for not coming to this conclusion quicker.

 _Heat_.

If you’re cold, you need heat.

Tyler springs into action, racing back into the main room and ripping the duvet from Josh’s bed. He props Josh into a sitting position against the wall and wraps him in the thick fabric, then looks around for what to do next. He turns the shower and the sink on to the highest level of hot water that they can produce and closes the bathroom door. Then he slips in next to Josh inside the duvet nest, and presses his body as close as he can to his. Under a different set of circumstances, Tyler would’ve taken full advantage of the situation, probably the best few moments of his life, but he was more intent on keeping Josh alive than satisfying the leap in his pants.

Soon, the bathroom is so full of steam that it’s almost suffocating and it’s so hot inside that Tyler has more than once contemplated getting out of the duvet and even his clothes. His body is soaked with sweat and his breaths come heavy and panting in the heat, but when glances over at Josh by his side, he is glad to see his color returning little by little.

Tyler doesn’t know how long the hot water will remain for, but he figures they have about thirty-five more minutes left until the motel cuts them off. If he can get Josh to at least warm up before then, he’s golden. He doesn’t dare open the door to go and get a jacket to wrap around Josh for fear of the steam escaping. He just snuggles closer and waits until he can feel Josh stirring against him.

 

 

Josh wakes slowly to sunlight and in close proximity with someone or something. The first thing he notices, other than the blinding sunlight that’s seeping in through the curtains, is that he feels warm. He feels much warmer than he remembered being the night before, and speaking of the night before, he recalls also being in the bathroom, not in bed in the main room. The next thing he notices is the little patch of brown hair poking out from the top of the duvet. Squirming a bit, Josh realizes that he can feel fingers and hands under the duvet too. He sits up, dragging the duvet back as he does, enough to see who is sleeping under the covers next to him.

Tyler’s arm drops from Josh’s chest, thumping onto the mattress and making him stir.

In the split second it takes for Josh to find that they both still have their clothes on and briefly be curious as to why Tyler was wrapped around him while he slept, Tyler is sitting up and blushing so hard that his face has turned red.

“Shit! I’m so sorry,” he babbles, trying to untangle himself from the covers. “It’s really not what you think it is-“

His foot snags and he falls flat on the floor. Josh leans over the edge of the bed and looks curiously at him, while Tyler stares horrified back.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” he says. Tyler continues staring for a long moment, then sighs heavily.

“It’s a long story.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this one was fun.


	6. it's electrifying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is imperative that you read the end notes so that no one gets angry or confused. You'll understand what I'm talking about when you get there. Have fun :)

Tyler kind of wishes Josh hadn't asked him to elaborate on what ‘a long story’ meant. He had barely remembered the events of the night before, a luxury that Tyler envied. When he finishes the recount, Josh just kind of…spaces out. He stares at his feet, sits completely still like a statue, and says nothing. He doesn't even blink.

“Josh?” Tyler calls. He clears his throat; he’d almost teared back up as he told Josh the story, but tried to keep it together for Josh’s sake. “Josh, are you okay?”

That’s a really dumb question.

“No, I’m not okay!” Josh snaps, throwing his hands into the air. “Everything’s a mistake, Tyler! I almost killed a guy on the street last night!”

What the hell was Tyler supposed to say to that? ‘ _In_ _your defense, it was all in self-defense’_?

‘ _That guy_ _had a gun;_ _you were only doing the right thing_.’

“You were crying,” says Josh suddenly. Tyler looks at him strangely. He had been sure he hadn't, not until they’d reached the hotel again; he remembered crying by the door very clearly. “If I hadn't seen you crying, I know,” Josh looks directly at Tyler with an intense gaze, “ _I know_ , that I wouldn't have stopped until that guy was dead.”

Something in Tyler’s psyche is jumping up and down, hyperventilating with panic at the thought of Josh being so ready to kill a man, but the other is really giddy at the thought of Josh being so ready to kill a man because of _him_. Which isn't exactly what Josh said, but that is how Tyler interprets it.

“Why were you so cold?” Tyler asks, eager to move away from the topic at hand before he springs to life in his boxers. Josh shakes his head, rubs his hands over his eyes. “Manifestation requires a lot of energy, so when the flames get out of control like that, they need something to fuel them,” Josh explains hurriedly, like he’s desperate to satisfy Tyler’s answers so they can stop talking about it. “Body heat?” Tyler finishes, completing the thought out loud.

“Yeah, can we just…not? Let’s not talk about last night. I don’t…” Josh trails off and lays back on his elbows, staring at the ceiling, shaking his head again. But Tyler needs to know one more thing before he can let it go.

“You…freaked out pretty hard. Why did you do that?”

Josh gives him an incredulous look. “He was gonna kill you, Tyler! He was _this_ close to pulling that trigger, and I was _this_ close to losing you-“

Josh stops himself abruptly and turns over on his side, burying his head into his arms and curling up. As far as he is concerned, the conversation is over. But for Tyler, his mind is already racing about, going back and forth between conversations he couldn't wait to have with Josh when the time was right.

As far as Tyler was concerned, Josh may as well have just told him he loved him.

 

 

 

The next time Josh speaks, Tyler is sitting on the sink counter in the bathroom, rubbing burn ointment on his wrist. While it isn't as bad a burn as… _others_ , it still hurts like a bitch, and it’s hard to write chords when the simple action of holding your pen sends pain shooting through your whole arm. He finishes the delicate job of rubbing the cream in on his wrist, then starts on his hand, squeezing out another dollop of the thick white cream into his palm.

The whole time, he doesn't notice Josh’s footsteps approaching on the carpeted floor, and when he pushes the rest of the door open and stops in the way, it comes as a shock to Tyler. Of course, it’s kind of his fault for not closing the door. Josh stares at his hand with the cream, and then at Tyler. Tyler doesn't really know what to say.

He tries for, “I’m fine. Really.”

Josh isn't fooled. He comes inside and stops in front of Tyler, takes his hand in his, dabbing at the cream with his fingers and carefully applying it to the red burns on Tyler’s palm. He says with a voice thick with shame, “I’m so sorry. I keep hurting you.”

“It’s okay, really,” Tyler insists. “I was just trying to change the lightbulb in the lamp and forgot that it had been on all night and that it was hot.”

Josh gives him a look. “You’re a terrible liar,” he mumbles miserably. Tyler shakes his head.

“I’m not lying.”

“Then how come these burns look like handprints? I can even count the fingers on them! You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, Tyler. I don’t want you to.”

Tyler frowns. “Well then I don’t want you to beat yourself up every time something goes wrong. I told you, I’m not afraid of you.”

Josh presses down a bit too hard on Tyler’s palm and Tyler winces. Josh bites his lip and murmurs an apology.

“Stop apologizing. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I keep hurting you.”

“I don’t care. I just want to see you smile,” Tyler says and pokes Josh in the ribs until he laughs out loud. “See?” Tyler says giggling. “That’s what I want. There’s the Josh I love.”

Too late, he realizes what he’s said and feels his face heat up, a backpedal already forming on his tongue.

“I like being this Josh,” Josh says, still grinning. “Just not the other one.” Tyler exhales, glad he doesn't have to come up with an excuse for his sudden diarrhea of the mouth. “Well, what can I do to make sure you keep smiling?”

Josh suddenly looks sheepish.

“What is it?” asks Tyler. Josh nibbles on his lower lip, which Tyler finds unbelievably cute, and says quietly, “Could you sing again?”

Tyler remembers the hospital then. Josh had heard him singing there, said he had a nice voice. Tyler hadn't thought he’d really meant it, just something nice to say to break the ice. But hearing Josh ask him to sing made Tyler’s heart swell, and he knew then that he could never tell the man in front of him _no_.

“Sure.”

Tyler slips off the counter and leads Josh from the bathroom. He settles himself on his bed, lying back with his head against the pillow. When he sees Josh watching him, he grins and pats the space beside him. “I won’t bite.”

Josh makes himself comfortable next to him his hands by his sides, picking delicately at the sheets underneath. Tyler hasn't made his bed, but neither of them really mind the mess. It’s like a nest of blankets and friendship and good feelings and they don’t really want to spoil that.

Tyler hums quietly under his breath, brushes his arm against Josh’s and sings softly.

It’s a song for Josh, but he doesn't know that. Tyler will tell him sometime, but not now. For now, he wants to make him smile.

“ _We don’t believe, what’s on tv,_

_Because it’s what we want to see_

_And what we want we can’t believe,_

_We have all learned to kill our dreams,”_

Tyler’s fingers wiggle their way across the sheets, covering the short distance to Josh’s in the matter of seconds it takes for him to sing the chorus.

“ _I don’t care what’s in your hair,_

_I just wanna know what’s on your mind_

_I used to say I want to die before I’m old_

_But because of you I might think_ _twice_ …”

Tyler can feel the bones of Josh’s knuckles under his fingertips as they brush against them. He wants to curl his fingers around Josh’s and brush his thumb across his knuckles, but he doesn't. He just settles for awkward interaction and a few more songs before he dozes off in the middle of a verse.

 

 

 

Josh turns his head when he realizes that Tyler has stopped singing. He didn't finish the lyric, but that’s okay. Josh can hear the songs in his head like Tyler is still singing them out loud. It’s crazy, but even Tyler’s breathing while he sleeps is melodic, like he’s singing even in his dreams. It’s comforting and Josh thinks he could fall asleep to that. Tyler looks so peaceful. Josh wonders what he dreams about, and wonders if he can ever be where Tyler is. Wherever it is, it must be a good place.

“There’s the Tyler I love.”

 

 

 

Tyler wakes to banging on the door.

He blinks his eyes open and glances over at the clock on the nightstand. It’s, like, six in the afternoon, and he and Josh have slept the day away. Josh.

Tyler glances over at the redhead lying next to him and smiles softly at how calmly Josh is sleeping. They both must have dozed off at some point.

The banging persists and so Tyler rolls off the bed and plods across the floor to answer it. He peers out of the peephole with groggy eyes to find a brown haired man with sunglasses on, standing on the other side.

Tyler unlocks the door, rubbing at his eyes in the early evening sunlight. “Can I help you?” he asks, trying not to yawn in the stranger’s face. The guy has a smile as wide and bright as the sun, and for a moment, Tyler is reminded of Josh.

“You might,” replies the stranger sunnily. “Depends; do you know if Josh Dun is here?”

“Um,” Tyler doesn't recognize the man as a tenant from their apartment, and he looks nothing like Josh, so relative is a definite no, “who’s asking?”

“Bren?”

Josh is sitting up, rubbing his eyes in confusion. “Bren?” he calls louder. Tyler steps aside and allows the sunglasses guy to come inside, where he immediately lights up at the sight of Josh. “Josh! Hey, man, it’s been so long!” he announces, running over and hugging Josh around the shoulders. Josh murmurs something, muffled by the man’s shoulder and pats him on the back. “It’s good to see you too, Brendon,” he says once the smiley guy releases him and steps away. “How did you even find me? I don’t have a phone.”

Brendon smiles one of those electrifying smiles again and pulls off his sunglasses. “Patrick told us; you know, being an empath and all. He said he thought you were in trouble, so I came down to see what was up.”

“Of course,” Josh says, running a hand through his hair. “Is anyone else coming? I don’t think I can really handle anymore of you.”

Brendon presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “I thought you would want to see us! Tyler wants to meet everyone, doesn't he?”

Tyler’s eyes narrow. “What? How do you know my name?” Brendon grins wide and winks. “It’s a secret.”

Josh clears his throat. “Tyler, this is Brendon. Bren, this is Tyler. He’s my roommate and quite possibly my saving grace.” At that, Tyler blushes and scratches at his neck bashfully. Brendon glances between them, an eyebrow raised. “Have you guys made out yet?”

Tyler’s eyes widen and Josh chokes on the water bottle he was drinking from, spitting water all over Brendon’s jeans and the carpet.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

Josh stops coughing and spluttering enough to glare up at Brendon. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Brendon lilts, dragging the ‘o’ in ‘on’ out, “don’t pretend the sexual tension isn't tangible. It’s positively,” he tilts his head to one side and puts his hands together, “electrifying.”

As he draws his hands apart, the air crackles with electricity, white arcs of lightning that echo and growl like a tiny thunderstorm. Tyler’s jaw drops.

Josh just rolls his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Brendon finally showed up. And yes, I know We Don't Believe What's On TV isn't actually about Josh, but for the sake of the story, in THIS universe, Tyler wrote it for him.


	7. stick together

Brendon Urie has become a bit of a fixture in the motel room for the past hour or so. He sits on the foot of Josh’s bed and entertains the questions Tyler has to a fault, making conversation with Josh at the same time.

“Fire is cool and all, but when you can shoot lightning out of your fingertips,” Brendon shrugs and smirks faking an arrogant façade, “there’s pretty much nothing cooler.” He elbows Josh good-naturedly and laughs when Josh punches him in the arm. “Bren’s always pumped full of electricity. That’s why he’s so damned hyper all the time,” Josh adds grinning at Tyler. Tyler has noticed. Sometimes when Bren gets exited, he talks a mile a minute; it’s almost like listening to a fly buzz really loudly in your ear. And he never seems to stop moving, for one thing. He’s always swaying from side to side or bobbing up and down, dancing around or just…wiggling. He never stops moving.

“You mentioned the others,” Tyler says, raising a curious tone in his voice, “who are they?”

“That depends on who you’re asking about. There’s so many, man,” says Brendon, waving his arms, “telepaths and magic people and invisible folks and stuff-“

“Did you say ‘magic people’?” Tyler says incredulously. He’d just seen two people shoot fire and lightning from their bodies, but magic people? Witches and stuff like that?

“Like Harry Potter or something?”

Brendon and Josh burst out laughing, doubling over on themselves and slapping their knees. Tyler frowns, wondering what’s so funny. “Oh, man,” crows Brendon, “If only _he_ could hear that!” He stops to catch his breath, falling into a giggle fit. “No, no, not like ‘abracadabra’ or some goofy shit like that. He’s more…how would you explain it, Josh?”

“If Snow White could chuck rocks and grow trees and flowers with her mind,” Josh replies. Brendon snaps his fingers and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, like that. He’s a cool guy; you’d like him. Nice voice too.”

“Speaking of which, where’s Spencer? Did you leave him at home?” Josh asks. Brendon nods. “Yeah. Dallon recently had a meltdown. Nearly tore the whole street in half. Spence is trying to help keep him calm.”

“Ah, man. Poor kid,” Josh sympathizes. “I know what that’s like.”

“I know,” says Brendon, taking on a much softer tone than what Tyler had become used to. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why ‘Trick sent me down first. He knows you had that freak-out; said it was so strong he almost started hyperventilating too.” Brendon frowns. “What happened?”

Tyler looks worriedly at Josh, like he might be set off by the memory of that awful night. Josh breathes in deeply through his nostrils and closes his eyes. “We got mugged,” Josh begins.

“Almost,” interjects Tyler.

“The guy had a gun. He wanted our wallets, but when Tyler didn’t give it to him, he said he was going to kill him. He actually tried to fire, I think, but the gun jammed,” says Josh, his voice low. Tyler’s heart skips a beat. The guy had actually been trying to fire the gun? He’d thought that it was just the safety clicking off!

“It took me a moment to realize that nothing happened, but I guess, in the moment that it took me, I just…snapped. He was trying to hurt Tyler, and I just got mad. I almost killed the guy; almost burned him to death. I don’t know where he is, or if he even made it to the hospital, but I know that if I think about it too long, I can feel that anger bubbling up inside me again.”

Josh sighs and rubs his face with his hands. “I don’t even feel bad for almost killing him. Like, what’s wrong with me? The only reason I stopped was because Tyler asked me to.”

Brendon is silent and puts an arm around Josh’s shoulders, pulling him close. Josh doesn’t fight it, but he doesn’t give in to it either. He sits quietly, hands still covering his face.

Tyler sits and watches them, bringing his knees up to his chest and trying to absorb all that happened, both then and now. He almost grazes right over the fact that Josh admitted getting mad because Tyler was being threatened, and feels a little flutter in his chest amidst the crushing dread as they are both forced to relive that night. He’ll ask him about that later, but right now, they all just need a moment of silence.

 

 

 

 

Tyler and Josh have been living out of a box of clothes one of the tenants from their apartment’s sister complexes scrounged up for them. Some of the shirts are a little big and some are too tight, but Tyler usually lets Josh wear those, because _wow, drummer arms are one of God’s greatest gifts._ When Brendon sees the box, he frowns and taps at it with the toe of his sneakers. “Nice setup you guys got here,” he says sarcastically. Josh matches him. “Yeah, thanks. Totally better than your thrift-store wardrobe.”

“It fucking sucks,” Brendon says. “I mean, this shirt looks like it was meant for a little prepubescent boy.” He fishes the shirt in question out of the box and frowns at it. It’s an odd green color that reminds Josh of pea soup or baby vomit and bears a mysterious stain on the sleeve with a striking resemblance to a wayward bloodstain. “It’s disgusting,” says Brendon. He looks thoughtful for a moment, then whirls around so quickly on his heel that it gives Tyler whiplash. “You guys should come stay with me! It’s way better than living in this hovel, plus, I’ve got WiFi.”

He’s beaming that electric smile again. He seems so excited and eager, that Tyler doesn’t dare turn him down. That’s why Josh does it.

“No way, man. We’re doing just fine on our own. Plus, with you, Spencer, Dallon, and Tyler and me, that house is going to cave in on itself. And do you really think the last thing Dallon needs right now is extra faces? I don’t want to freak him out,” Josh says. Tyler raises an eyebrow. He’d forgotten to ask about Dallon. But he supposed if Josh and Brendon were talking about him, then he must be one of those ‘others’ that he was supposed to meet at some point.

“It’s not like he’s meeting a bunch of strangers. He knows you, and Tyler seems like a nice enough guy; he’ll probably warm up to him real fast. Come on, Josh. Everyone’s coming down anyway.”

Josh’s eyes widen. “What?”

“It was ‘Trick’s idea,” says Brendon, holding up both hands in surrender, “he said he felt like it was time to stage an intervention, what with you and Dallon’s massive meltdowns giving him all these headaches and stress episodes. It’s as much for you two as it is for him.” Josh looks away, looking sheepish and reluctant, even as Brendon touches his shoulder. “Might as well come. We all could use a little breather,” he says gently. Josh remains silent for so long that Tyler wonders if he’s giving Brendon silent treatment, but then he nods slowly.

“Alright. I’m up for it,” he glances at Tyler then. “How about you?”

Tyler smiles at him and lightly punches his shoulder. “I made a promise,” he says, “I’m with you.”

 

 

 

 

Brendon’s house is much larger than he let on. When Brendon pulls up in the driveway, Tyler’s eyes widen and his jaw drops. The house looks like a mansion!

Two stories and a beautiful veranda welcome them as they pile out of the car, carefully manicured grass and redbrick walkways to match the house’s own structure. It’s a wonder the property isn’t gated by a huge black metal fence like in the movies. One of the windows on the second story boasts a quaint balcony, so Tyler suspects it’s a bedroom. There’s an identical one on the left side of the front of the house as well, and Tyler wonders exactly how many people live here.

As the group walks up the driveway, Tyler notices the spidery crack creeping from the veranda before them and running under their feet. Craning his neck, he follows the crack with his eyes until it reaches the other side of the street and continues up into the neighbor’s driveway, disappearing under their garage door.

“Uh,” Tyler begins, still eying the crack warily, “what happened there?”

Brendon doesn’t even look back to see what Tyler is referring to. “That, dear Tyler, was your newest roommate,” he replies. They climb the veranda and Brendon unlocks the door, entering with a shrill, “I’m back!”

From one of the rooms off the foyer, a tall, skinny guy with brown hair pokes his head out from the doorway. “Hey, Bren. Whoa, Josh? Is that you?”

“Hey, Dallon,” says Josh, accepting the hug the man gives him. “How’re you hanging in there, man?”

“I’m doing okay. Did Brendon tell you everyone’s coming over?” Dallon asks, clapping Josh on the back and swatting at Brendon as he walks past trying to flick Dallon in the ear. “It was Patrick’s idea.”

“Yeah,” says Josh. He gestures to Tyler, “This is my friend Tyler, by the way. He’s been letting me stay with him since the fire.” Tyler smiles politely and offers his hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

Dallon nods, shakes Tyler’s hand. “Ditto. What’s your deal?”

Tyler’s smile falters. “My…what?”

Dallon raises a hand in the direction of the room he exited and catches a can of soda that flies into his waiting palm. He cracks the can tab and raises an eyebrow at Tyler.

“That’s amazing! I’m not like you guys though,” Tyler says, accepting the can from Dallon, “There’s nothing special about me.”

Josh nudges his shoulder with a grin. “What are you talking about? You’re amazing!”

Tyler’s heart is beating so quickly that he’s pretty sure it’s about to come thumping right out of his chest. He scratches his cheek in a feeble attempt to mask the blush he knows is turning his face the most embarrassing shade of red. He tries to say something, but the only thing that comes out is, “I…you…um…”

He kind of wants to die a little bit, but when Josh laughs and smiles all teeth and contagious happiness, Tyler instead wants to kiss him. Dallon looks like he knows a secret and just shakes his head with a knowing grin.

“Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about to be a party! :)


	8. very, very close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hella late, I'm sorry. :(

Brendon is a popular radio personality, which explains the nice house. Tyler has seen some communications awards hanging on the walls upstairs, and when they’d first met, Tyler swore that his voice sounded a little familiar.

 Brendon lives with two other people as it turns out.

Tyler realizes this when he’s sitting on the couch, sipping his soda from Dallon, and notices three pairs of shoes shoved haphazardly under the coffee table, varying in size and color. There’s a pair of converse that have little lightning bolts on the eyelets and a very light dusting of what looks like glitter on the toe, like a casualty of an arts and crafts project. The next pair is bigger than the others and is just plain black. The last pair is a pair of slip-ons with laces. The toe on that pair is scuffed to oblivion.  Without really thinking about it, Tyler matches the converse to Brendon and the scuffed toed shoes to Dallon, who had a habit of tapping the toes of whatever he was wearing on the floor, even if he was barefoot.

When he was showing Tyler and Joseph their room, Tyler kept hearing a dull clacking sound and spent a good five minutes searching for the source. Dallon was standing in the doorway, leaning on the jamb, scuffing his curled toes against the floor. Tyler decided it must be a nervous tick.

Brendon materializes out of nowhere suddenly, plopping down next to Tyler and scaring him half to death.

“Sooo…” Brendon says, throwing his arms across the back of the couch. He shimmies his shoulders a bit. “What’s going on with you and Josh?” Brendon sounds like a gossipy schoolgirl, but rather than be annoyed by it, Tyler thinks it’s kind of funny. Tyler regards his soda can and shakes his head. “Nothing. We’re just roommates. We used to be neighbors in the same apartment complex, but we didn't really know each other all that well,” he says. Brendon nods skeptically. “Uh huh. So you just welcomed a total stranger into your motel room? You didn't even stop to wonder if Josh was a serial killer or something?”

Tyler shrugs. “He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, now you know that. But you hardly knew him before then.” Brendon raises a suggestive eyebrow. “Was someone thinking with the wrong head?” Brendon pokes Tyler in the ribs with an electrified jolt, not enough to hurt him, but still make him jump.

“I was just trying to help him. He was trying to kill himself when I found him that night; I just didn't want him to be alone,” says Tyler, thinking back to the moment he’d found Josh lying amidst the flames. He’d tried to burn himself to death. That would've been a terrible, gruesome way to die.

Brendon looked at him for a long moment. “You’re a good guy, Tyler,” he tells him finally. Tyler shrugs. “It’s nothing. I've been where he’s at right now, and I just don’t want to lose him like that.”

“You really like him a lot, don’t you? It’s okay,” Brendon giggles at the blush creeping across Tyler’s cheeks, “honestly, I think he likes you a lot too. Josh is a friendly guy, but I've never known him to care so much about someone that he would take a bullet for them.”

Tyler fiddles with the coke can tab, nibbling on his lower lip. He didn't really want to entertain the thought of Josh actually reciprocating his feelings, only for them to be proven false. Liking someone for so long and not having a chance in hell was so much better than hearing through the grapevine, and it turning out to be nothing more than a rumor.

“Who else lives here?” Tyler asks changing the subject. Brendon gestures to himself, “Me, Dallon and Spencer, who you’ll meet in a little bit. He just stepped out for groceries since we’re definitely gonna need ‘em once everyone else gets here. Including you and Josh, we've got nine people hanging out here.”

“Really?” Tyler isn't quite so surprised-the house is definitely large enough to support that many, if a few people slept on the couch and the last few in the second guest bedroom. But that many people with powers like Josh and Brendon and Dallon living under the same roof? It was bound to be an adventure.

“So, Dallon’s a telepath? That’s how the driveway got to be so cracked. Was it during that panic attack he had?” Tyler hopes he isn't overstepping his boundaries by asking this, but Brendon shrugs and sighs tiredly. “Yeah. It’s been a bit rough on him; he only recently discovered his telepathy around six months ago, but we've been friends for so long, I knew I had to take him under my wing and help him learn how to control himself. Kind of like what you’re doing for Josh.”

“I could help,” Tyler offers. “I taught Josh some breathing exercises to help him when he gets stressed out and feels like he can’t control himself. He’s been doing pretty well with them.”

“That would be great,” Brendon says, looking immensely grateful, “I've never had to deal with the struggle that he’s going through-y’know, not being able to control my powers-so sometimes it’s hard for me to relate. I've always known I could do these amazing things, but Dallon's only just discovered his ability. Everything just came easily to me. I want to help it come easily for him.”

Tyler grins at him. “I’d be happy to help.” Brendon returns the smile and nudges Tyler’s shoulder. “Look at us: one big happy family!”

 

 

 

When Tyler leaves the bathroom and returns to the living room couch, there’s someone else occupying it. He’s a tall guy with brown hair like Dallon, with more muscle mass and a beard. He’s lounging back on the couch, much like Brendon was earlier, with one foot propped up on the coffee table. Tyler stands just off the arm of the couch. “Um... Spencer?”

The man looks up, furrows his brow and replies, “Yeah? Who are you?”

“My name’s Tyler. I’m Josh’s friend.”

Spencer nods, looking much less confused than before. “Oh. Nice to meet you,” he says, and then goes back to watching tv. Tyler scrunches up on the far end of the couch, noting the kind of atmosphere surrounding Spencer was one that was way different from Brendon’s. Where Brendon was a ball of energy twenty-four-seven, talkative and optimistic, Spencer seemed cooler, calmer and much more collected. It was an odd mix, especially considering they lived together.

Spencer suddenly turned his head towards Tyler. “What?” Tyler hadn't realized he’d been staring at him the whole time. “You look like you’re waiting for something.”

“Sorry,” Tyler apologizes, “it’s just that everyone I've met in the past few days has been moving something with their minds, or shooting lightning and fire from their hands. I guess I was kind of expecting you to do the same.”

 “Oh.” Spencer shook his head. “Nope, not me. I’m not like Bren and Dallon, I’m pure human. Take it you’re plain too?”

“Yep. I’m just a normal guy. Nothing special about me.”

“Then that must be a different Tyler that Josh has been babbling to me about,” says Spencer, sounding disinterested and still watching the screen. Tyler raises an eyebrow. “Josh has been talking about me?”

“Honestly, I thought you two were dating, the way he kept gushing about you. ‘ _Tyler’s this’_ , and ‘ _Tyler’s that’_. ‘ _He’s so amazing_ ,’ and stuff like that. Like, that’s great and all, but I was kind of trying to put groceries away, and he was in the way the whole time.”

At this point, Tyler’s heart is beating so fast he feels like it might explode in his chest. There is no way…

 

 

 

Dinner comes late and scattered. There’s a dining room furnished with a big enough table and some extra chairs for the number of people staying in the house, but Tyler finds himself eating on the living room floor, gnawing on a piece of fried chicken and scooping another forkful of green beans into his mouth. Spencer and Brendon are sitting on the floor with their backs against the couch, talking in hushed voices, occasionally laughing at something the other said. They share a plate, almost curled in on one another, and it has taken until just now for Tyler to realize that Spencer and Brendon are actually a couple.

Josh and Dallon are laughing at each other by one of the recliners, nibbling on their food as they talk excitedly back and forth. The whole room feels warm, and not the way it feels when Josh is close by. It’s got a sense of togetherness, like it really is a big happy family. It kind of excites Tyler to meet everyone else tomorrow, to see what the others are like.

Brendon went to a KFC down the street and brought back dinner for everyone, saying the nicer stuff from the grocery was for tomorrow, when they would be expecting the others over. Tyler reaches up to the coffee table where the bucket has been placed for another piece of chicken, when the whole thing suddenly jerks away and slides down the table, teetering dangerously on the edge before Josh catches it in one hand.

Dallon’s arm is raised, as though he’d just jerked his hand away from the bucket like it was on fire. His eyes are wide and his skin blanches, Josh breathing in tight wisps as he adjusts his hold on the bucket. Brendon looks from the table to Dallon, quizzically for only a moment, before his expression softens.

“I…” Dallon begins. He slowly lowers his arm, cradling in his other hand as though he’s been hurt. He looks mortified with himself, and even though it was just a half-empty bucket of chicken that didn't even spill thanks to Josh, he looks as though he’s almost killed someone. Perhaps it’s because he didn't mean to do that. Suddenly, Dallon is off the floor, storming out of the living room and up the stairs. Without even thinking, Tyler is up and after him, moving quicker than both Spencer and Brendon who were already setting aside their plate to follow Dallon. Tyler catches Brendon’s eye as he rounds the couch for the stairs. Brendon nods and turns back around, speaking quietly to Spencer, probably explaining why Tyler was running after Dallon. Tyler can still feel eyes on him, and somehow, he knows its Josh.

Dallon has holed himself up in one of the bathrooms. Thankfully the door is unlocked, and Tyler knocks before turning the knob slowly. The last thing he wants to do is startle Dallon.

“Not now, Spence, I’m-“ Dallon begins and immediately stops when he sees Tyler in the doorway. “Oh. It’s you.” He sighs and stares down at the sink, his hands clenching and unclenching as he grips the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry about that. I’m fine.”

Tyler steps inside and closes the door. He leans with his back against the counter, making sure he’s in view of Dallon and begins breathing slowly. Dallon looks up at the noise and raises an eyebrow. “Just follow me,” is all Tyler tells him. “Don’t freak out.”

Dallon watches him for a few moments more and then begins breathing slowly in tune with Tyler. _In…out…in…out…_

When Dallon looks calmer and less like he’s going to start tearing his hair out, they stop. Dallon sinks to his knees on the bathroom floor and situates himself so that his back is against the sink cabinets. Tyler settles in next to him and watches him warily. “Better?”

Dallon nods tentatively. “Better.”

He stares at his feet pressed against the adjacent wall. “Thanks. I didn't mean to do that earlier. I wasn't even concentrating or trying to use my powers; it just…happened.” Tyler doesn't really know how Dallon responds to physical comfort, but he gently touches his shoulder. “It’s fine, man. It’s cool. No one was hurt. The bucket didn't even fall off the table.”

“It’s not that,” Dallon insists, shaking his head, “it’s the way it happened. What if something like that happens again? What if I’m not paying attention and accidentally push someone down the stairs, or move a knife in the kitchen? What if next time it’s not just a chicken bucket?”

Dallon sighs, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt Brendon and Spencer, is all. This is fucking ridiculous. I can’t even do nothing at all without worrying about my powers going off on their own.”

“You just have to get better. Not just your powers, but your emotional state, too. If you learned how to manage your anxiety about your telepathy, your control over your powers might come easier to you,” says Tyler. Obviously he has no experience in superpowers, or whatever you wanted to call them, but he knew for certain that calming down and not letting himself get so worked up helped him keep himself in check. He had better self-control. That was all that Dallon needed. To not be so worried.

Easier said than done, but with Brendon and Spencer making sure he was doing okay mentally and physically, Dallon would get better a lot quicker than he would if he was alone. “You've got good people here to help you. I’ll help you while I’m here, too. That way you have one more person to help you if you need it.”

Dallon continues staring at his feet. “…I’m scared,” Dallon says, his voice barely above a whisper like Tyler wasn't meant to hear him. Tyler carefully slips an arm around Dallon’s narrow shoulders and presses a little closer.

“That’s okay, too.”

 

 

 

“That was good what you did for Dallon.”

Tyler turns to Josh, fumbling with putting his shirt on over his head. “Thanks. Just trying to help. Is he okay? Dallon, I mean.”

When Tyler and Dallon had emerged from the bathroom and quietly shuffled down the stairs, Brendon had all but pole vaulted over the back of the couch to them. Spencer was more collected about his approach, though no less concerned. Tyler had been reduced to a background fixture, slipping away from the trio and sliding in next to Josh by the recliner.

“He’s okay. Brendon’s sleeping in his room with him tonight just in case,” says Josh. Tyler raises an eyebrow. “Is Spencer okay with that? He’s sleeping alone?”

Josh laughs. “Spencer’s not the possessive type. He knows it’s alright, and honestly, Bren isn't the most peaceful sleeper. If anything, I think Spencer’ll be happy to sleep by himself without waking up to Brendon all over him.”

“Brendon’s a starfish sleeper?” Tyler says raising an amused eyebrow. Josh drops down on top of the duvet and sprawls like the animal in mention. “He’s an enthusiastic sleeper.”

Tyler plopped down next to him and rolled over on his side, making Josh draw his arm closer to himself to make room. They stare at each other for longer than both are used to, listening to the sounds of their breathing, the sound of the house settling, what might be Spencer shuffling around his and Brendon’s room on the other side of the wall.

“Hi,” Tyler breathes.

“Hey,” replies Josh.

They continue staring. Tyler is content to just have Josh’s eyes on him, drinking him in in the dim light, a little warm thanks to Josh’s natural heat, and with no desire to be anywhere in the world but here with him. He can’t tell what Josh is thinking. They’re so close together now that Tyler can actually see the littlest details of Josh’s eyes. They’re dark like storm clouds with stars peeking through, warm and-garnet? Deep orange?-flecks of color seeping past.

When did their noses almost begin touching? Who moved closer? Tyler has no idea.

“Would you give me a chance?” he hears himself whispering. He doesn't know what he’s even doing, can’t get himself to stop talking. He doesn't feel the need to explain himself. He has a feeling Josh is already aware. His eyes are a little wide and unfocused, his breathing is a little uneven. He doesn't answer immediately.

“Tyler,” he begins slowly. And Tyler’s heart stops right then and there. He knows that tone. He’s dreaded it for so long, doesn't know what he was even thinking asking Josh something like that. Of course, he only thought of him as a friend. Why did he have to go and muck it up? Brendon had been wrong. Josh didn't like him the way Tyler liked him and now he’d made one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

Tyler shakes his head and sighs. “No, no,” he barely mumbles, “it’s okay. I got it.” He turns over, his back to Josh and whispers so low and quiet, “’night.”

He doesn't hear anything else from Josh for a long while. Then he hears him turn over on the other side of the bed and whisper, “’night, Tyler.”


	9. reunion

Tyler wakes the next morning to find Josh gone. His half of the bed still bears the indention of Josh’s form, but it’s ice cold when Tyler runs his hand over it. He wonders where he’s gone.

Downstairs, Tyler is welcomed by the scent of coffee and bacon, some singing and snarky commentary. Brendon is at the stove, turning bacon in the cast-iron skillet, and singing along to some pop song on the radio. Spencer is sitting at the table by the window, doused in the early morning light and looking like he’d just woken up with a cup of coffee in his hands. Dallon is sitting on the granite island behind Brendon, sneaking pieces of bacon into his mouth while Brendon’s back is turned. When he sees Tyler coming down the stairs, he nods.

“Morning,” he calls, already sounding much more chipper than he had been the night before. Tyler smiles and waves. “Morning. Anyone seen Josh?”

“I thought he was sleeping with you?” Spencer says, raising his cup of coffee to his mouth. Brendon cranes his neck around to look at Tyler without having to turn all the way around. “Did you guys fuck?” he asks loudly over the sizzle of bacon. Tyler’s face turns a brilliant shade of red, and Dallon nearly chokes on the bacon he’s sneaking. Spencer rolls his eyes and looks unperturbed. Being with Brendon for so long has probably yielded an immunity to his signature brand of weirdness.

“’Course they didn’t,” he says, resting his chin in his hand and gazing at Brendon’s profile. “I think you would have heard them if they had; Josh isn’t as gentle as he looks.” If it was at all possible, Tyler’s red darkens even deeper. He doesn’t want to know how Spencer knows that. “Did he run off?” asks Brendon, turning back to the stove. “That’s weird. Not to worry, though. He probably just needed to blow off some steam.”

Tyler furrowed his brow. Why would Josh need to blow off steam? If anything, it would be Tyler who needed to go off and be alone after the disaster that was the night before.  Had he made Josh upset? Why would he be upset?

Brendon suddenly hits a high note, exaggerating the singer on the radio’s voice greatly, and snapping Tyler out of his thoughts. Spencer’s voice just barely pierces Brendon’s, as he calls for him to _shut the hell up, it’s too early for_ _that shit_.

 

 

 

Noon rolls around and there is still no sign of Josh.

The house has filled with people by now, though it’s so filled with noise that it sounds like the whole neighborhood has joined the get-together. The loudest is probably the guy named Pete. He has a loud, hearty, contagious laugh that can be heard from the farthest room in the house and like Brendon, seems to have no brain-to-mouth filter and could keep talking for ages. Pete is currently telling a story on the couch, using his hands to speak quite a bit. Tyler can hear him word for word from his post in the kitchen doorway.

“…and when I walk into the living room, there’s a couch dangling halfway out of the ceiling seamlessly, and suddenly, this skinny kid in glasses just kinda seeps through the ceiling after it, hanging upside down like a bat,” Pete is explaining, “and he just kinda looks at me, and I look at him, and he goes, ‘sorry, I dropped my couch’, like he’d just dropped his phone or something!” Tyler finds himself laughing at the awkward situation, though he has no idea what Pete is talking about. “That’s how I found out an intangible guy lived in the apartment above me,” Pete concludes. Brendon is laughing, while Spencer just grins and slips his arm around his waist. One of the redheads raises her head from the couch. “Oh, hey!” she calls in Tyler’s direction. All eyes turn to him as he’s pointed out. “Come sit in here with us; we don’t bite!” Brendon weaves out of Spencer’s arm and rushes over to Tyler. He grabs his arms and tugs him over into the living room, where he puts him on display for everyone to see. “This is Tyler,” he lowers his voice to a stage whisper, “he’s Josh’s ‘ _friend’_ ,” major air quotes, like Tyler can’t see them. A chorus of smug ‘ _ah’_ s’ go up from the group. “Tyler, this is everyone else,” finishes Brendon, without even bothering to properly introduce them.

Pete raises a hand and waves, “Hi, I’m Pete and I’m a recovering caffeine addict.” A few, ‘ _Hi, Pete’s_ ’ go up from, like, two people indulging him. “Where is Josh?” asks one of the guys. He has auburn hair and glasses. “Out,” Brendon answers. “He’ll probably be back soon.”

Tyler could only hope.

 

 

 

Brendon isn’t allowed in the water, so it’s a bit of a mystery as to why he even owns a pool in his backyard. “Came with the house,” he shrugs when Tyler asks him accordingly. Electricity doesn’t mix well with water, and he didn’t want to risk accidently electrocuting everyone in the pool. He sits on the edge and keeps Tyler company, who didn’t have a swimsuit and was still tangled up in knots about Josh.

“He’ll be okay,” says a voice beneath Tyler. The glasses guy has swum up and perched with his elbows on the wall beside him, grinning softly. His hair is wet and already sticking up in certain places. “Who?” Tyler asks him. The guy lays his cheek against his arm and shrugs. “Josh. Sorry, I’m an empath. Name’s Patrick. I can sense what you're feeling,” he says. “Right now, it feels like you’ve got a huge rubber band ball in your head. If that makes sense.”

Tyler nods glumly, though he doesn’t quite understand the comparison; what was a rubber band ball in the brain is supposed to feel like?

 “Can you feel what Josh is feeling right now?” he asks. Patrick looks thoughtful. “Conflicted. There’s too many emotions. Anger. Disappointment. Confusion. It’s like a fog in his head right now. He’s scared.”

Tyler frowned. Why was Josh angry? What scared him? Was he lost?  Hurt? Patrick thumped Tyler’s knee suddenly. “Calm down, man. I can feel the anxiety like a bat to the head,” he says, rubbing at his left temple. Tyler jolts as though he’s been shocked. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Hope,” Patrick adds after a short pause.

“What?”

“I feel hope now. From Josh, I mean. It feels like sunlight.” Patrick is smiling contently at Tyler, so reassuring that Tyler feels as though his smile alone is lifting his spirits.

It’s a quiet, tender moment that is ruined almost immediately as water suddenly splashes everywhere and Patrick shrieks. Someone is laughing, but Tyler can’t see who, not until a skinny blonde appears out of nowhere, seeping into sight behind Patrick with his hands on his shoulders.

“Mikey!” Patrick shouts, making to punch him in the arm. Mikey disappears again and avoids Patrick’s assault, the retreating sound of laughter being the only indication that Mikey was still in the vicinity.

“He’s invisible,” Tyler says awestricken. Brendon nods. “Yeah. That’s Mikey, one half of the Ways. His brother is the redheaded one over there on the other side.” He points at a man with bright red hair sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs wrapped around the waist of a guy in the water below him with a ton of tattoos. He has a flower crown on his head and pecks the tattooed guy on the lips, laughing at something he said. “That’s Gerard. He’s our punk Snow White,” Brendon says. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked into a room where he is while he’s visiting and found daffodils and peonies growing out of the walls. Spencer’s allergic to those, so Gee doesn’t do that anymore. Sometimes he talks to animals too. He likes them a lot, hence the ‘Snow White’ title. He’s the only guy I know who actually sings to plants.”

“Who’s that guy with him?”

“Frank. He’s Gee’s manpeice; good kid. A little rowdy, but he’s a sweet guy. He doesn’t have any powers.”

“Hey, heads up!”

At the sound of a female voice, Tyler and Brendon both look up just in time to see a blur of white hurtling towards them. Tyler throws his arm up to shield his face, but the impact never comes. He opens his eyes slowly to see the ball bouncing off of thin air in front of him. At first, Tyler is confused, but when the air in front of him shimmers and reflects like a prism before flickering away, he finally understands.

Brendon raises a thumbs up. “Thanks, Hayley!”

The second redhead of the group raises her hand in a thumbs up gesture too. Brendon leans over to Tyler. “That’s Hayley Williams. She makes force fields and shit with her mind.”

Tyler nods, bewildered, and nearly topples both himself and Brendon into the water when he’s startled by the volleyball exploding in midair.

“Sorry!” Pete calls from the other end of the pool.

“Oh, yeah,” Brendon says, “That’s Pete and he blows shit up with his mind.”

 

 

 

“ _Fuck!_ ”

Brendon jerks away from the oven, flapping his left hand that was burned by the pot of burning rice. The pot is too hot to move from the oven, and when he tries to use the oven mitts to move it to the sink, it slips out of his grip and clatters to the tile floor. Brendon screeches another near unintelligible set of expletives and finally, clearly murmurs, “Hope it didn’t crack the tiles. Pete!”

“Yeah?” Pete calls from the living room, where he is playfully wrestling with Mikey on the couch for the tv remote. Brendon tells him to order pizza over the phone since homemade dinner is not happening and begins to clean up the rice.

“Ah, fuck me,” he growls as he begins to clear away some rice that splattered under the island. Spencer appears behind him and wraps his arms around Brendon’s waist. “Maybe later,” he purrs seductively in his deep voice. 

Tyler smiles a little at their affection for each other, and sighs. Josh hasn’t yet returned. He’s been gone all day, and Tyler has nearly worried himself sick wondering where he is. He’s enjoyed hanging out with the others, talking to Patrick and cracking jokes with Pete. Gerard’s really cool, a gentle soul with a lot of great stories to tell, and even though Mikey is mostly a listener who looks near impossible to approach, he has a lot to say that makes Tyler laugh. Hayley is really just as goofy as the others and can keep up with the boys and their jokes. She’s sweet, though, and Tyler really wishes that he could properly enjoy her company and everyone else’s without worrying for Josh.

A scraping sound startles Tyler as the rice pot scrapes across the floor and then floats to the sink, bumping once into the edge of the counter before dropping inside. Dallon is sitting at the table, grinning tiredly at himself. Tyler shoots him a smile and a thumbs up, and can’t contain the giggle that escapes him when Dallon looks tickled pink that he managed to successfully use his powers.

There’s a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” says Tyler. He goes to the front door and unlocks it, swinging it open to find Josh on the other side. Relief washes over him as Josh looks up from the ground to meet his eyes. “Josh? Where have you been? You’ve been gone all day,” he says, stepping aside to let him in. “We ordered pizza; it should be here in a few,” he adds, when Josh doesn’t respond. Josh nods. He goes upstairs, narrowly avoiding being seen by anyone in the living room…almost everyone.

Before Tyler can follow, he sees Patrick moving out of the corner of his eye. He moves like a predator, weaving through the bodies on the floor and around the couch, slipping up the stairs like a shadow. He’s going after Josh, and the way his jaw is set, they have a lot to talk about.

 

 

 

Josh is lying on the bed in the dark, snapping his fingers. A little flame flickers from his fingers, on and off with each click. “You oughta stop that,” says a voice. Josh looks towards the door and glares at Patrick. “You know Brendon doesn’t like the smell of smoke in the house.”

Josh turns back to his flame. “What do you want, ‘Trick? I’m not in the mood.”

“I want to talk about all of that conflict you had today,” Patrick says, stepping further into the room. “You’re struggling. Is it Tyler?”

Josh nearly drops the little flame. Patrick frowns. “He was worried to death about you. He thinks he did something wrong.”

“He told you?”

“I read his thoughts. His anxiety was like a hammer to my skull. Yours too, though it made me feel like I was gonna throw up.”

“That’s what you get for snooping.”

“Tyler asked me to. Josh, he’s worried about you. What’s the matter? Why won’t you be honest with him?”

Josh watched his hands. “You’re the empath,” he said finally. “You tell me.”

 

 

 

Tyler is pretty sure he’s been standing outside his bedroom door for nearly ten minutes. Everyone else has made a nest of pillows and blankets and couch cushions downstairs in the living room. He’d left Gerard and Frank tangled up in each other by the couch, Pete and Patrick under the coffee table, and Hayley as the queen of the recliner, wrapped up in the best blanket that she’d wrestled Pete for earlier and won.

Brendon and Spencer had retreated to their bedroom, no doubt to hold Spencer to his earlier promise. Thankfully, Tyler can’t hear anything standing in the hall right now, except for some light giggling and the rustle of sheets coming from the room next to his.

Josh is inside Tyler’s and his bedroom, having been holed up inside for three hours. After Patrick came back downstairs, Tyler had managed to catch his eye. Patrick looked exhausted, but stretched the corners of his mouth into a thin grin. Tyler had meant to ask him how his talk with Josh had gone, but the minute Patrick set foot into the living room, Pete had swallowed him up and Tyler hadn’t been able to ask.

He wondered if Josh was mad. He seemed like he’d wanted nothing to do with Tyler when he’d come back that evening, and it worried him that Josh was still sore about what had happened the night before. Tyler wanted to bash his head against the wall for messing things up like that. It would’ve been better if he had just left well enough alone and preserved his friendship with Josh. He buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily, muttering incoherently to himself. _Fuck, what was his problem?_

“Tyler?”

Tyler jumps and looks up at the sound of his name. Josh is standing in the open doorway, staring quizzically at Tyler. “What are you doing out here? Have…you been standing out here all this time?” he asks. Tyler’s mouth opens and closes as he flounders for something to say. Josh cuts him off, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him inside the room. “Are you mad at me?”

Tyler’s eyes go wide. “Why would I be mad at you? Are you mad at _me_?”

“No! I’ve been worried about you all this time!”

Tyler’s voice rises in pitch. “Me? Why? Where did you go? You were gone all day, and last night, I thought I’d fucked up everything. I thought you were irritated with me and that’s why you disappeared! I was-“

“Worried, I know,” Josh says, slapping a palm to his forehead. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed time to think.”

“Think about what?”

Josh looks at his feet, suddenly finding more interest in his toes than Tyler. “About last night.”

Tyler groans and covers his face with his hands. “Oh my god, Josh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wreck everything. I was really hoping you’d just forget about it.”

“Tyler-“

“If you don’t want me around right now, I totally understand-“

“No, Tyler, listen-“

“I don’t want to make things awkward or make you feel uncomfortable, because you’re doing so well, and you’re smiling and I don’t want you to lose that light-“

“Then would you shut up so that I can explain?”

Tyler’s mouth snaps shut and he looks at Josh incredulously.

Okay, _wow_.

 Josh sighs and rounds the bed, rolling onto one side and beckoning Tyler to join him. “I won’t bite,” he promises with a tired smile. Tyler isn’t sure what Josh has been doing all day, but whatever it was must’ve taken quite a toll on him. It’s only now that Tyler realizes how spent Josh looks.

Tyler lies on his side next to him, deliberately putting some space between them. After the previous night, scrunching close together didn’t seem like such a good idea. He misses the look of disappointment on Josh’s face at the lack of closeness as he picked with the sheets, but focuses on him once he starts talking.

“I’m terrified,” Josh says. Tyler furrows his brow. “Why?”

“I lost my home, I lost my friends when I moved away, I’ve lost control of my powers more times than I can count, and it seems like I keep losing so many things. Fire,” Josh says slowly. He shakes his head, watching his hands with dull fascination. “It eats up everything. Destroys and hurts. People lose so many things to fire. _I’m_ losing my mind.”

Tyler’s heart ached. Josh sounded so sad. But touching was off limits, right? He couldn’t bring himself to wrap an arm around Josh’s shoulder or to reach for his hand. He felt as though he were stepping on eggshells as it was. So then why was Josh’s hand suddenly brushing against Tyler’s cheek?

Josh watches him carefully, with something Tyler can’t quite decipher glinting in his eyes. Maybe it’s the dull light from the lamp on the dresser, but Josh’s eyes are sparkling like a sky full of stars. It’s beautiful, and it hurts. Oh, _god_ , it hurts. He just can’t do this, being so close to Josh and knowing he can’t fully appreciate how _fucking_ _amazing_ he is, and it’s killing him.

“Josh,” he chokes, feeling the heat behind his eyes and the scratch in his throat. He wants to tell him, tell him something, anything before he goes insane. He doesn’t know what.

And then Josh is so close-when the hell did that happen?-so close that his lips are brushing against Tyler’s, just enough space between them to whisper, “I don’t want to lose you too.”

So Tyler closes the distance.

 

 

 

Whoa, what the fuck.

When did this happen? When did Josh start combing his fingers across the back of Tyler’s head, pressing the other hand flat against his chest as if he were making sure that Tyler was still there with him, heart beating in frantic sync with his own? And since when was Tyler so bold as to be sticking his tongue down someone else’s throat, to be French kissing Josh Dun in someone else’s bed? Not that Tyler was complaining, but it was about _damn_ _time_. He didn’t think he could keep on hanging around with Josh if something like this hadn’t happened soon.

Tyler allows himself to pushed onto his back, Josh draped across his chest and never once breaking apart as they move. Josh is like a furnace on Tyler’s chest, hot and heavy and firm, and he can almost, _almost_ slip into an unmovable little world in his own head where it’s just him and Josh and the sound of their-

_Pop!_

It’s the sound of glass breaking, the hiss and fizzle of a filament exploding and dying out. Josh and Tyler jump so hard that Josh falls off the bed. It’s completely dark in the room. The power has gone out. Someone swears downstairs, sounding loud and slurry with sleep as the sound of popping glass echoes throughout the house.

“BRENDON!” Pete’s voice.

On the other side of the wall, Tyler hears someone heave a huge sigh and then the squeak of a mattress. Some muffled voices, Brendon’s and Spencer’s, and Tyler can distinctly hear Spencer say, “Some ride, huh?” he sounds totally spent. Brendon pants something along the lines of, “Would you say it was… _electrifying?_ ”

“Shut up, Bren.”

Tyler looks at Josh. Josh looks at Tyler. They’re eyes are both the size of dinner plates as they realize what happened.

“Oh my god.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, Mikey has always struck me as asexual. Just a by-the-way. What do you guys think? I'm open for opinions.


	10. few, proud, emotional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shoutout to the two ace users who commented last chapter and to any other asexual readers who have been reading my story: it's nice to know you're there! As an ace person myself, it's super exciting for me to meet people who identify the same as well!

Brendon is super chipper in the morning, despite having to have the electrician come to fix the power grid for the house thanks to Brendon and Spencer. Pete is grumpy as he sips from his coffee cup, eyeing the couple grudgingly over the rim of his mug. He’d nearly fallen down the stairs in the dark last night on his way back from the bathroom.

“Because someone had _way_ too much fun and knocked out the power,” he grumbled dryly. It had actually been kind of hilarious, at least to Tyler, that Brendon finished so hard that his powers knocked the power out at the house, and, subsequently, the house next to them. Tyler was still laughing about it when he woke up that morning and the lights in the bathroom still didn't work.

“So, did you kids have fun last night?” Brendon asks him when Tyler comes downstairs for breakfast. Tyler raises a smug eyebrow. “Did you?”

Brendon smiles brightly and wiggles his eyebrows. “Yes, I did, actually. I had a feeling Josh was getting all kinds of excited last night. I could feel that heat through the drywall!”

Tyler flushes pink and scratches the back of his neck. “It was interesting, but nowhere near as interesting as yours,” he said slowly. Pete’s eyebrows rose to his hairline as he sat up at the table. “Did you guys finally make out?” he asks in a hushed voice. Tyler shifts from foot to foot and smiles at the memory. Pete doesn't need a verbal answer to stand up from his chair, pump his fists into the air and shout, “ _Yes!_ ”

Tyler smiles, confused and a little startled at Pete’s sudden outburst. Pete blows past him and into the living room, calling loudly, “Hayley, Spencer, you owe me ten bucks!”

Tyler leans out of the doorway in time to see a quarter slap against Pete’s head, thrown from Spencer’s direction. Tyler smiles at the scene, Pete still laughing despite the various coins being thrown at his face. He’s so distracted by Pete that he doesn't hear the feet coming down the stairs and slipping up behind him, though the sudden heat at his back gives him some idea of who’s there.

“Morning, Josh,” he says, turning to see the redhead. He looks adorable, still in the clothes he slept in, a t-shirt and his boxers, hair all mussed from sleep. He’s still rubbing his eyes.

“Hey,” he mumbles, and lays his head on Tyler’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around the one not bearing his weight. “You’re looking well.”

Tyler giggles. He could get used to waking up like this every morning. “I had a good night,” he replies, turning his head slightly to see Josh, but instead gets a mouthful of his red hair.

“Hey, Bren,” Josh says, a delayed greeting to the man still digging around in the refrigerator. “Nice of you to come so hard that you knock out the power.”

Brendon pokes his head out from the fridge and grins. “It sounds like we all had a pretty swell evening,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “What’d _you_ two kids do?”

 

 

 

Tyler decides he really likes Josh’s friends. Gerard and Patrick have been singing show tunes all morning, Brendon dancing along and providing his own voice for the ones he knew by heart. Hayley sang, which Tyler was completely mesmerized by, and led them all in a rousing rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody while they made lunch. Mikey turned out to be an amazing cook, watching mostly from the table the chaos that was ensuing as Brendon and the others made a mess of the kitchen and burned their ingredients. He’d had to shoo them all out of the kitchen, keeping Tyler as an assistant, and got to work making something in a skillet.

“It’s Rosemary skillet chicken,” Mikey tells him as he gets the skillet going. He pushes his glasses further up on his nose and runs his hand through his blonde hair. “Sounds fancy,” says Tyler. “I didn't know you wore glasses.”

“Not really, and yeah, I’m nearsighted as fuck. I only wear them when I’m doing something super important like cooking. I don’t want to mess up.” He gestures at the refrigerator. “Can you grab the rosemary in there? There should be some in the vegetable tray. We really should let it dry for a few days, but there’s no time for that.”

Tyler opens the fridge and roots around inside, pulling out a small package of rosemary leaves. He proceeds to wash them off in the sink, searching for something to say. Mikey seems very quiet; he’s almost intimidating to be around. “How do you know Brendon?”

Mikey seems satisfied enough with the skillet and crosses the room to the pantry. He grabs a sack of potatoes and returns to the sink with Tyler. “Pete. Bren was Pete’s friend before he was mine, and he kind of introduced me and my brother to him. Patrick and Pete are a package deal, so I got to know him regardless, way before I met Brendon. We met Josh through Patrick, and Hayley, again through ‘Trick, and Dallon through Brendon once we all really became close. Now we’re all a big happy family.”

“We put the fun in dysfunctional,” says a voice entering the kitchen. Tyler turns to find Spencer walking to the fridge for something to drink. “What’re you guys making?”

“Fancy skillet chicken,” replies Tyler, pausing from cutting the potatoes Mikey washed. Spencer makes a face. “Mm. You know Frank won’t eat it.”

Mikey sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fuck, I forgot. Oh well, we’ll make him a salad or something.”

“Why can’t Frank eat this?” Tyler asks, leaning back a bit to see the man in question in the living room.

“Frank’s vegetarian. S’why he and Gerard got on so well when they met,” says Mikey. He adjusts his glasses again and begins looking through the cabinets. The water in the pot is set to boiling and the skillet is warm, the smell of hot metal slowly rising into the air. Mikey is meticulously measuring out some salt for the pot of water when Tyler asks him, “Are you and Hayley a thing?”

Mikey accidentally tips the salt shaker upside down and probably overdoes the proper amount of salt. He looks at Tyler oddly. “What made you think that?”

Tyler shrugs. “I mean, I just wondered, since everyone here seemed to be an item. Pete and Patrick, Bren and Spencer, Frank and Gee.”

Mikey hums quietly under his breath as he grabs some red pepper flakes and garlic, rosemary and salt and mixes it all on a cutting board. “Pete and Patrick are…complicated. They aren't exactly a couple. And Brendon and Spencer may as well be best friends for life, even though they've been hitched for two years now. They don’t act like a couple. But to answer your question: no, Hayley and I aren't dating. She’s a great girl, but she’s got a guy, and I’m ace.”

“What do you mean by ‘complicated’?” Tyler asks, watching as Mikey takes a knife to the cutting board of herbs and minces them. “Patrick isn't emotionally ready for a relationship,” Mikey says, his voice low and somewhat aloof. Tyler raises an eyebrow. He personally thought Pete was the immature one. He voices this to Mikey, who laughs and shakes his head. “Not like that. Patrick’s an empath, so he reads a ton of emotions on a daily basis. You can imagine some of the heartache he’s experienced, then; people who've said they cared about him, but their thoughts and feelings said otherwise. He’s…reluctant.”

“But Pete seems like such a nice guy. He wouldn't hurt Patrick like that, would he?”

“Never. But like I said. Patrick needs a little more time to heal. And Pete’s willing to wait. He’s been patient for three years now.”

Tyler’s eyes widen. _Three years?_ He’d only been pining for Josh for a fraction of that, and even then he’d felt like every moment he couldn’t be with him was torture!

“That’s why we stick together,” says Mikey, something like melancholy echoing in his voice. “We help each other heal. Sometimes it really does feel like it’s us against them. No one else will stand up for us, but us.”

“I’ll stand up for you,” Tyler says, turning slightly to see Mikey in his peripheral vision. Mikey stops what he’s doing, putting chicken breasts on the hot skillet, and exhales. Somehow, Tyler knows that he’s been hurt too, like a lot of the people here. He’s curious as to what’s happened to them to make them feel so alone in the world, like they had no one but each other, and how they manage to still be so happy. How Brendon can be singing Kelly Clarkson singles in the other room with such gusto, making everybody laugh until they cried. Or how Patrick could keep a smile on his face despite the emotional insecurity that most definitely came from being fucked with in the head.

Tyler ponders this as he helps Mikey finish making lunch in silence.

 

 

 

“Dessert!”

Brendon startles Tyler out of his thoughts by banging his fists on the coffee table, trying to start a chant amongst the others. “Dessert! Dessert!”

“You definitely don’t need sugar,” Spencer drawls from the couch. “You’re hyper enough as it is.”

Brendon pouts at him and resumes his chanting. “Dessert!” Spencer looks pleadingly at Mikey, who only offers a shrug in response. Like lunch, Dinner was handled by Mikey and Tyler, because pizza for two nights was unacceptable according to Frank. So Mikey made summer corn and tomato pasta in literally twenty minutes, which was reportedly “tasty as fuck” by Brendon and Pete.

“How about chocolate fondue?” Tyler says from the floor under the coffee table. He and Josh have their fingers linked together, watching tv from their hideaway. “We could melt some chocolate in a pot and dip apples and strawberries.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” Hayley says, sprawled on the couch, all leg and nest of pillows. No one fights her for anything, it seems. She’s appropriated both the couch and the best blanket in the entire duration of her visit. It’s rule of thumb, Tyler supposes. “Sounds fancy,” Brendon adds, finally satisfied. “I've got chocolate in the pantry.” He jumps over the arm of the couch, earning him an annoyed grunt from Hayley as he narrowly misses hitting her with his legs. Tyler looks up at the recliner and catches Spencer’s eye. Spencer gives him a lax thumbs up and a tired quirk of the lips.

Brendon returns a moment later with a pot, the package of chocolate and a bowl of water. It takes a few minutes for the pillow fort nest that Brendon insists they make to be set up and longer for the chocolate to even begin to melt in the pot. They use the bain Marie method, with Josh heating the pot in his hands and all gather under the castle of couch cushions, pillows, sheets and chairs drug in from the dining room.

“We’re like the Breakfast Club,” muses Tyler briefly. Brendon thinks that’s the best thing ever. “We’re the Fondue Friends,” he giggles, earning him an eye roll from Spencer. The chocolate melts and the apple slices and strawberries are dipped into the pot, a chorus of ‘ _mmmm’_ rising from the group. They relax under inside the fort, the candles on the floor the only light in the little enclosure. Pete and Patrick sit shoulder to shoulder on the far end, while Brendon sprawls across the floor, his head in Spencer’s lap. Hayley leans with her back against the coffee table next to Mikey, who is equally flanked by his brother and Frank. Tyler leans back against Josh’s chest, stiff as a board because he isn't sure how to approach physical contact with Josh like this just yet.

Josh is just as stiff, experimenting with how far he can take the intimacy without it being too awkward. Tyler feels him wrap an arm around his waist, and immediately does his best to relax, letting Josh’s heat warm him more than the chocolate dip.

For a while it’s silent while everyone lets the chocolate and fruit soothe their senses. And then, Patrick speaks. “What’s on everyone’s minds?” he asks. He looks directly at Tyler when he says this, silently calling him out.

Tyler wonders if he could hear him thinking very hard about how everyone in the group kept so upbeat with all the open wounds they bore from the past. “I've been thinking,” Tyler begins, seeing Patrick nod at him in approval, or some semblance of it, “how are you guys so optimistic? I feel like you've all been punched in the face by life, but you all seem so ecstatic to be here and alive.”

Hayley looks thoughtful. “We've got each other’s backs,” she says, mulling over her words as she bites into another piece of chocolate dipped apple. “Just knowing these guys are watching my six is nice to know.”

“I’m with Hayley.” This is Mikey’s voice now. “It’s nice to know that these guys won’t pretend I’m not there. It’s kind of ironic, being able to turn invisible at will and being ignored by everyone you meet even when you’re in plain sight. I've heard some pretty awful things said about me behind my back when people thought I wasn't there. I was always there. It’s the best thing in the world to know these guys have all been where I’m from and won’t turn their backs on me.”

“I like our misfit gang,” Brendon says. “You want to know the secret, Ty? We've all had it rough. Gee was never popular with his classmates, because everyone thought he was weird for talking to plants and being constantly surrounded by animals. Pete was always afraid of hurting someone with his powers, same as Josh. Hayley was nearly taken advantage of as a teenager, and I kept causing power outages when I was younger because I didn't know how to balance my overenergized emotions. We strengthen each other, help build the other up because we understand each other. There aren't that many of us out there. So if one of us felt like we had nothing to live for, we would know that we would be leaving behind friends who needed us as much we ever needed them. That’s just it. We’re each other’s oxygen. If no one else gets us, at least Hayley or Mikey or Patrick or someone does.”

Tyler understands. He knows exactly what Brendon is talking about, though at the same time, he’s only speaking from a wishful thinker’s point of view. Tyler never had someone who understood enough to become his air, his stability in times of uncertainty. And now, Josh has introduced him to them, Josh has become his air and his reason to keep going. Everyone here in this pillow fort has become his lifeline, and he hoped that he could become one of theirs.

“That’s the most well-thought out and profound thing I've ever heard from you,” Spencer tells Brendon. Everyone else enthusiastically agrees.

“I can be chick flick material when the time calls for it,” Brendon retorts. “It’s not just hot air up in here,” he taps his index finger against his forehead.

 

 

 

 

“Well that was cathartic,” says Josh.

“I’ll say,” Tyler agrees. He and Josh stand on either side of the bed getting dressed for sleep. “Lots of good vibes.” He moves the pillow on his side of the bed and frowns. “Have you seen my shirt?”

“Nope. Have you seen my shorts?” Josh checks under the sheets to no avail. Tyler frowns. “I put my shirt and shorts under my pillow this morning, so where did it go?” Josh runs a hand through his hair and stares at the bed. His in nothing but his boxers right now, and Tyler has nothing on but his shorts. He happens to glance up at Josh, seeing movement in his peripheral vision. Josh crosses his arms and his brow creases in thought, humming low in his chest. Then he looks up, because there is no doubt that Tyler is staring holes into Josh like cigarette burns.

Tyler doesn't really try to hide that he was just gawking at Josh, just continues to stare like a total creep. So Josh stares back. Stares at Tyler’s wiry upper body inked with black bands around his arm and hollow cubes across his chest, the delicate bones that lie under his skin, hipbones like porcelain. Stares even harder at his dark eyes that seem to reflect everything Josh has come to love about Tyler. Stares at him for so long and so hard that it hurts.

Tyler makes himself comfortable on the bed, looking up at Josh expectantly once he’s sitting crosslegged on top of the sheets. Josh follows suit, and nearly topples backwards off and onto the floor when he finds his arms full of Tyler and his mouth full of Tyler’s tongue.

 

What a pleasant surprise.

 

He barely gets a moment to properly kiss back before Tyler is pulling away, already out of breath and panting, eyes wide. “Is this okay?” he asks between gasps for air. “I mean, was that awkward? I just kinda rushed into it, I know. If it’s weird-“

Josh grabs his shoulders and shuts him up, stealing all of his breath leaving bruises on his mouth. It really is a miracle how many minutes the pair goes without breaking apart to breathe, and even when they finally stop, they only break because their jaws are already sore from pretty much gnawing on each other’s faces.

Josh pounces on Tyler, pushing him back against the mattress and reconnects sloppily, a much messier, hungrier version of the night before. Skin against skin, boxers versus slept in basketball shorts, Josh’s deeper growls or Tyler’s lighter moans. Suddenly, a lot of it is lost-now Tyler doesn't know where his shorts are, and somehow Josh’s boxers are caught on one of the ceiling fan blade-and they certainly aren't being as timid and beat-around-the-bush awkward as they were before.

It’s the most sickeningly sweet and slow wrestling match known to man, hands all over and leaving red marks on each other’s skin, bite marks in between shoulder blades and collarbones and lips soft like knife blades over bared throats. Wrists pinned with no tap-out, writhing bodies in sync with each other’s inner rhythm: the heartbeat and the breath count, grunts, moans, giggles. Harmonious.

 

Like poetry in motion.

 

That’s the only way Tyler can describe what is happening between Josh and himself in the dark.

Light is prickling in the corners of Tyler’s visions. They look like little lightning bugs in June, but Tyler swears they’re there. They’re as real as the heat rolling off of Josh in staggering waves. It’s like being caught under a heat lamp. Briefly, Tyler is reminded of the phrase ‘fuck me until I can’t see straight.’ He wonders if that’s what’s happening right now. Until Josh swears loudly and Tyler feels a singing pain on his bare arm.

Josh jerks back so quickly that he leaves a mess and Tyler is scrambling to sit up, watching silent awe at the orange sparks falling like snow around them. They fall to the floor or land on the mattress and bed sheets, leaving tiny scorch marks on the fabric. One settles on Tyler’s shoulder and he bats at it frantically.

It’s weird.

 _Beautiful_ , but weird.

 

Josh is staring at Tyler when he looks back. His eyes look like hot coals again, lit up the same way a fire in a brazier might be, the same mesmerizing color as one. Tyler grins. This has been an adventure.

“Are you hurt?” Josh asks, running his hand through his sweaty hair, pushing it back from his face. Tyler shakes his head. “No. I didn't even get burned.” He looks up at the sparks still falling silently around them. “Where’d they even come from?” he breathes, completely enthralled by the striking beauty of it all. Josh hums uncomfortably. “Me.”

“Why’d you do that? Not that I don’t like it. It’s amazing.”

“Friction,” Josh says simply.

Tyler tilts his head curiously and then laughs. “Oh! Like Brendon yesterday.”

Josh’s face is red, but he’s laughing soon too. They sit there in the near dark, laughing, twisted up in nest of bed sheets and duvets simply enjoying the other’s company as they fall into a cool silence.

“You guys done?”

Unmistakably Brendon’s voice. Literally right outside the door. Josh quietly gets out of bed, pausing to reach up and yank his boxers down from the fan blade and shimmy into them, and crosses the floor to the door. He yanks it open, allowing a surprising amount of people to come tumbling in.

“ _What?!_ ”

He catches a flash of red hair racing back down the stairs, a giggle that he’s sure belongs to Hayley disappearing as well, until he’s only left with Brendon and Dallon and Pete. Downstairs, he can hear Mikey’s voice, “You guys are fuckin’ weirdos,” and Spencer’s exasperated sigh in agreement. Patrick’s voice at the bottom of the stairs, “You perverts enjoy the show?” and Brendon is cracking up on the floor in the messy tangle of Pete and Dallon.

 

Truly, it’s been an adventure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex. I'm not good at that topic. This chapter was just kind of a catharsis, as I realize that what Brendon said was true to my life. It's an interesting life lesson that I recently discovered with my own friends that I thought I would share with anyone who's struggling too. :)


	11. first love is hardest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long, right? Sorry for the delay; I was hella busy and...ugh.

Tyler and Josh wake up at three in the afternoon.

Josh wakes up first, rubbing his eyes and rolling his shoulders, careful of Tyler’s head that rested on his arm. Tyler stirs awake after, grunting at the afternoon sunlight pouring in through their window. “Morning,” he yawns, shifting to sit up and roll himself onto his side to face Josh. “No, it’s, like, the afternoon,” Josh replies, equally groggy. “We slept the day away.”

“That’s fine,” Tyler replies, settling back into the sheets and curling against Josh’s chest. “I like being here with you better.”

Josh wraps his arm around Tyler’s shoulder. “Do you think we went into it too quickly?”

“Went into what?”

“Y’know…last night,” Josh says slowly. “Not that I didn’t love it, but we’d only kissed once, and never even gone on a real date-“

Tyler rolled his sleepy eyes and pressed a kiss to Josh’s mouth. “You’re so chivalrous,” he murmurs, pulling back and resting his head against the redhead’s chest. “Don’t worry. We’re fine, man. It doesn’t have to be by the book; in case you haven’t noticed, we are a pretty unorthodox couple.”

“Yeah,” Josh sighs, “You’re right.”

They lie in silence for the better part of ten minutes before Josh asks, “What do you wanna do today?”

Tyler had nearly begun dozing in the quiet, but the rumble of Josh’s voice in his chest woke him promptly. He thought for a moment, pursing his lips. “Why don’t we go on that first date you were so worried about us not having?” he says, looking up at Josh. Josh giggles. “That’s really vague. What would you want to do when we go?”

“Get to know you better, now come on,” Tyler says, sitting up and throwing back the covers. He tugs on Josh’s arm. “Time to get up!”

Josh turns onto his stomach, groaning into the pillow as Tyler continues to pull on his arm. “Noooo…” he moans, slightly muffled by the pillow.

Eventually he gets up though, hops in the shower after Tyler’s used it and gets dressed. When they head downstairs, Brendon is sitting on the couch with Spencer and Dallon.

“We’re taking the car,” Josh says, not stopping as he continues towards the kitchen. Tyler waves good morning at everyone.

“Don’t get a speeding ticket,” Spencer yells at the same time Brendon calls, “Don’t fuck in the backseat!” and Dallon shouts, “Have fun!”

“Oh, by the way,” Brendon says, something in his voice making Tyler turn around and Josh pause just outside of the kitchen door, keys in hand. Suddenly Tyler is blinded by an article of clothing of some description, and from the startled sound Josh makes next to him, so has he. Pulling the fabric away, Tyler recognizes it as his shirt.

The same one that he had been looking for the night before.

His jaw drops slightly, and one look at Josh’s shocked expression as he holds his missing shorts in his hands tells him everything he needs to know.

Brendon winks at them from the couch, like he was completely innocent, and shrugs. “Have a real good night tonight, you two.”

 

 

 

 

“Where do you want to go?” Josh asks in the driver’s seat, glancing over at Tyler next to him. Tyler taps his chin thoughtfully. “We didn’t get breakfast today since we slept in. Waffle House is as good a place as any right now,” he says. “Crispy bacon and fresh waffles all day long.”

Josh grins, making a turn at the end of the road. “Sounds good to me.”

The Waffle House they choose is very quiet. Almost no one is there and the few who are look up once at Josh and Tyler when they walk in, then pay them no more attention as they take their seats. A waitress sidles up to them, a warm smile on her face and a pad of paper in hand. “Hi, I’m Jenna,” says the waitress, tapping her pen against the nametag pinned to the front of her shirt, “and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you boys to drink?”

Josh orders soda, while Tyler asks for water. Jenna grins and nods. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“So…Brendon planned the whole thing last night,” Josh says once Jenna is gone. “Stole our clothes so that we’d eventually have no choice.”

“He’s a lot craftier than we give him credit for,” Tyler agrees. He rests his chin in one hand. “So, the sparks last night. Will that be a recurring thing?” He laughs at the color staining Josh’s cheeks; he’s almost the same color as his hair. Josh rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I mean, I guess. You know now that my powers require friction; so when I, um…y’know… I’ll release embers.”

Tyler’s grin slowly morphs into one of unease and worry. “Ah, um. I forgot. Remember when Brendon knocked the power out a few nights ago? Will you, like…set the bed on fire or something? We won’t combust will we?”

Josh suddenly looks equally worried. “Um…I actually don’t know. I’ve never…” If it’s even possible, his face deepens in color and he looks down at the table. Tyler furrows his brow in confusion and opens his mouth to ask what Josh is talking about when Jenna arrives with their drinks. Tyler thanks her as she places the cups down in front of them, water for Tyler, Coke for Josh, and flounces off, saying she’ll give them more time to look over the menu. It hits Tyler then why Josh is so flustered about his earlier question. How would he know if something like spontaneous combustion would happen during something like that if he had never tried it in the first place?

“Oh, my god.”

Josh fidgets as Tyler’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “ _Oh, my god_ ,” Tyler repeats, suddenly sitting straight up. “Josh, that… _was that your first time?”_

Josh nods meekly. Tyler exhales roughly, staring at the table for a long moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“If you knew it was my first, you would’ve withheld,” Josh says, sighing and rubbing his hand across his face. Tyler laughed in disbelief. “No way, man! I mean, yeah, I would’ve been a little scared to try, but that’s only because your first is supposed to be special!”

“It was special,” Josh tells him, looking confused. “I was with you; that’s pretty special if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but we just kinda rushed into it. No pillow talk or good old-fashioned gentle romance beforehand-“

“We cuddled,” Josh interrupts.

“-I just wouldn’t want it to feel like a skanky hookup.”

“It didn’t,” Josh says truthfully. “It was amazing. Honestly.”

He stares at Tyler with wide, sincere dark eyes, his hand inching along the table towards Tyler’s. Tyler glances down, notices it, and a small smile graces his lips. He lets his own hand creep towards Josh’s and meets him halfway, fingers intertwining together. They grin stupidly at each other in silence until Jenna returns to take their food orders, and when she is gone again, Tyler quietly tells Josh, “Next time though, I’ll top if you just want to be safe.”

Josh’s eyes cloud with confusion. “’Next time?’”

Tyler nods, looking a little unsure now. “Yeah, if you want to. I mean, we’re are together, right?”

Josh doesn’t miss a beat, smiling wide. “Yeah. Yeah we are.”

 

 

 

“Josh?”

Josh knows this voice, and Tyler knows that Josh knows it too, the way he freezes. Still latched onto Tyler’s pinky with his own –they’re still too shy to hold each other’s hands and had opted to just link each other’s singular fingers together and they realize that they are giant nerds, yes- Josh turns towards the voice. Approaching them slowly is a woman with red hair. Briefly, Tyler wonders how many redheads he knows now.

A huge grin breaks out on her face when Josh finally looks at her, and she jogs towards him. “Hey! Oh my god, it’s been so long!”

Josh beams at her and opens his arms for her. When she crashes into him, the impact of her against his chest nearly sends them both sprawling. “Whoa, reel it in there, girl,” he says laughing, eyes crinkling. “Hi, Debby.”

The girl pulls back and smiles wide, then bombards Josh with questions at a rapid fire pace. “Where have you been? How are you doing? It’s been years, hasn’t it?”

“I live a few hours away from here, I’m doing great, and yes,” Josh answers calmly, “it’s been almost three.”

Debby shakes her head, a stern frown on her face. “Too long. Way too long.” She glances at Tyler suddenly, like she’s just noticed that he was there. “Oh, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend? How rude, Josh; I thought I trained you better.”

Josh simply rolls his eyes. “Debs, this is Tyler, Tyler this is Debby.” He points at Tyler, “I've been rooming with him for a while, due to, um…unfortunate circumstances. He’s my boyfriend.”

It rolls so fluidly, so flawlessly and easily across Josh’s tongue that it seems natural. Like it was meant to be. Tyler feels like he’s going to faint, right there in the aisle of the bookstore.

“Debby and I used to date,” Josh says, looking at Tyler now. A blush spreads across his face now.

An ex. Wow.

“Now I feel awkward,” he mumbles. But Debby laughs. She’s cute when she laughs, the way her eyes crinkle at the corners kind of like Josh’s do, and she uses her whole body to laugh, always moving. Sweet summer wind was the best way to describe her, and for a moment, Tyler wonders what made Josh brake things off with her in the first place, and what he saw in him that made him happier than being with Debby.

“No hard feelings between us,” Debby tells him, waving her hand. “It was mutual. We both knew that we weren't being honest with ourselves, so we ended it as friends. Josh is amazing; you’re a lucky guy!”

Tyler’s face is burning. Debby is literally the sweetest thing, and she makes Tyler feel so… _not_.

He wants to hug her and squeeze really hard, but at the same time, he wishes she would go away so she didn't make him feel so inferior.

Josh is oblivious to this. “What are you doing here? Are you here with someone?” he asks Debby. Debby nods, tossing her hair over her shoulder and adjusting her hat. It’s a cute hat, Tyler thinks. She looks like one of those girls in magazines who run around in fields of flowers and sundresses.

“I’m actually here with my boyfriend too,” she says, looking back towards the café in the distance. “He’s just picking up the iced teas we ordered. We actually came looking for a recipe book; there’s a new one out full of organic recipes that I wanted to try. What are you here for?”

Josh shrugs. “Just walkin’,” he says. “We’re on our first date, and we didn't even have a set plan to follow. We’re just winging it.”

Debby giggles. “You never were good at planning stuff, were you? That’s okay. Ah,” she tilts her head to one side, curiously, “here he comes now.”

At the end of the aisle, a man with dark hair and two cups in hand comes walking towards them. When Josh meets his eyes, he smile falters. Tyler feels him tense next to him and he heats up so quickly that Tyler immediately breaks out in a sweat. Suddenly, Tyler has to look over Josh’s shoulder to see, as the redhead has moved and situated himself in front of him.

“You remember Taylor,” Debby says slowly, gauging Josh’s reaction. Tyler doesn't need powers to sense the bad blood between the new guy and Josh. “Yeah,” Josh says, low and with barely concealed venom in his voice. “I remember Taylor.”

And Taylor remembers Josh, apparently. He stops next to Debby, handing her one of the cups before glancing back up at Josh. “So,” he says. He lets it hang in the air, daring Josh to bring it down. So Josh does. “You’re dating Debby now, huh?”

“I am,” the guy says. “Problem?”

Debby rolls her eyes and sighs heavily. “Taylor, not here. Can’t you guys just get over it? Whatever it was that happened all those years ago is old news. Can you please just let it go?”

Josh shakes his head. Obviously, Debby has no idea what the problem is between Josh and Taylor, but it’s not her fault. Taylor never bothered anyone, not unless they were trying to ‘fuck up the natural balance of superhumans and normals’, as he had put it all those years ago.

“ _Taylor_ ,” Debby says loudly, firmly, obviously trying to draw attention away from the tension in the air, “this is Josh’s boyfriend, Tyler. They've started living together because of reasons.”

Reasons, she accompanied with little hand gestures, like an explosion. Must be fire.

Taylor nods at Tyler. “You know about Josh?”

Tyler looks at Josh, who is still giving off heat like an oven, if not more so. He nods hesitantly, only assuming that Taylor is referring to Josh’s fire power.

“Yeah. Are you guys…?”

Taylor smirks dangerously, one hand stuffed into his pocket and the other around Debby’s shoulder. “You don’t wanna know. If you ever find out, then that probably means you’re dead.”

Josh growls, stepping forward. A challenge. Oh hell, not in a bookstore, not with all this dry paper around.

“Josh,” Tyler shoves forward, barring Josh from getting any closer with his arm. “Don’t. We’ll just go. It’s okay.”

It feels like touching a furnace made of flesh. Josh looks at him for a long moment, reading the worry on Tyler’s face, and then looks back at Taylor and Debby. Ever so slowly, he backs down, stepping back and grabbing Tyler’s hand. He’ll do it, just this once.

For Tyler, because he asked him to.

Tyler releases the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and flashes a smile at Debby. “It was nice to meet you, Debby. Sorry if we messed up you guys’ date.”

Debby shakes her head. “No, no, it’s fine. We should apologize; no one felt threatened until…” she glares sidelong at Taylor, who has the gall to shrug innocently. “Maybe I’ll see you later some time?”

Tyler nods. “Sure. Enjoy the rest of you day, okay?”

Debby’s smile is sweet as they walk away, but Tyler knows a worried look when he sees one. Josh waves curtly at the pair, but the moment they disappear, he whirls around and tugs Tyler along, nearly dragging him out of the bookstore.

“What was that all about?” Tyler asks gently over Josh’s heated mumbling under his breath. The door handle sizzles and pops like a hot skillet when Josh yanks on it and pulls Tyler along. Tyler stares with wide eyes at it as they step out onto the sidewalk and down the street.

“That’s gonna hurt someone if they touch it, y’know,” he says, trying to find his own footing.

Josh doesn’t slow and he doesn’t talk to Tyler until they reach the car parked on the side of the street by a meter. Tyler glances at it momentarily before sighing and getting into the passenger’s side.

They still had ten minutes left on it.

Tyler watches as Josh jams the key into ignition and briefly wonders if he should take the wheel instead, lest Josh melt it or his anger cause him to drive into a tree or something. But the moment the engine roars to life, Josh deflates. He sighs and leans back in his seat, eyes closed.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Pretty awful first date, huh?”

Tyler shakes his head. “No. No, of course not. I had fun.”

“It’s just…” Josh sighs again, running a hand through his red hair. “Taylor’s a prick. We used to be really good friends, but…” he trails off, shakes his head.

“Can’t believe Debby’s dating that guy.”

As Josh pulls away from the curb, Tyler senses the anger and betrayal that hangs off of Josh now. He won’t push, not when they’re supposed to be having fun, but later on, he’ll get him to tell him the tale.

 

He has a feeling it’s gonna be a heartbreaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who remembers Taylor York from Paramore? That's who that is, by the way.


	12. light em up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's short and super late, happy monday everyone.  
> like tumblr? see the notes at the bottom.

You’ll never guess who we saw out today,” says Josh, the front door slamming behind him in punctuation. Brendon comes thundering down the stairs like an excited puppy and vaults into the sofa. “No; who?” he goads, obviously ready for some sort of gossip.

Almost immediately, the living room is full of people again. Mikey suddenly appears from the kitchen with his brother and Frank in tow, Pete and Patrick materialize from somewhere upstairs. Hayley pokes her head up from one of the recliners. The only people missing are Dallon and Spencer, though Josh is sure they’ll turn up at some point.

Tyler ogles at the way everyone comes together at the same time, way too excited for some gossip. They’re like teenagers at a sleepover.

“Who’s got you all hot and bothered?” This is Patrick, because of course.

Josh flops onto the couch, splaying over Brendon’s body and resting his head in his lap. Tyler lifts his long legs and sits underneath them, propping them up on his thighs. Josh sighs deep and heavy, like the mere thought of the guy at the bookstore made him tired.

“You guys remember Taylor, right?”

Hayley groans and rolls her eyes. Amidst a chorus of ‘oh my fucking god’ and ‘really?’, her response is the one that Tyler finds himself most curious about. “Hayley,” he says, “you know him?”

Hayley sinks into her chair, balancing one foot on the end of the coffee table, her lower lips poking out a little in a petulant pout. “Yeah,” she moans. “I know him. We used to hang out; friends for a long time until he got crazy.”

Tyler raises an eyebrow. “Crazy?”

Taylor, though kind of rude, hadn’t seemed like the unhinged type, but then again, Tyler wasn’t the type of guy to judge a book by it’s cover. Just because he looked like a normal guy didn’t mean there was something abnormal in his head.

“They guy’s got problems,” pipes Pete, rolling his eyes. “Especially with regular people.”

“Regular people?” Geez, Tyler is starting to feel like an echo.

“Y’know,” Brendon gestures to him, “people like you and Spence. Powerless people.”

“Taylor doesn’t believe that people like us and people like you should be involved in a relationship,” Josh elaborates, gesturing to himself and Tyler the entire time. “He won’t date a regular person, and he doesn’t like anyone who does.”

“Reminds you of the fucking sixties, doesn’t it?” Pete mumbles. “I don’t know what his problem is.”

“He’s dating Debby,” Josh adds. Another displeased ruckus rises up from the others with force. “What? Doesn’t she know what a terrible piece of shit he is?” says Patrick. Josh shakes his head.

“Nah. She has no idea.”

Tyler decides to jump in now. “What went down between you two?” he asks Josh. He watches as Josh’s dark eyes find his and gleam dim and tired. “How did you guys even get to where you are now?”

Josh holds his gaze in silence for a long time. Tyler’s beginning to wonder if he might’ve stepped over the line, asked about something that was not his business to know. Then Josh sighs.

“Okay. Story time-“

This earns a small whoop from Brendon.

“Anyway. Taylor and I used to be okay with each other. He used to be okay with a lot of us, until Ryan.”

Tyler notices the way Brendon stiffens slightly, but it’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, and sets his jaw firmly. Touchy subject, he’s guessing.

“Ryan was Brendon’s guy. The first guy he ever decided to test the waters with,” Josh continues. “Ry was always around, you know? He and Bren were always joined at the hip, so wherever he went, Ryan was always there. Every time we went out, like, all of us, Taylor would always give Ryan a hard time because he wasn’t like the rest of us.”

“You guys stood up for him though, right?” asks Tyler.

“Seeing how Bren and Ry were together for all of three years, yeah. But eventually, Taylor cracked. It’s kind of impressive that he didn’t freak out on us sooner, but I digress,” says Hayley, lending her voice to the story. “Ryan stopped coming along with us after a while; he got the hint, and just hung out whenever he knew Taylor wouldn’t be there. We thought it was okay.”

“Taylor actually tried to fight Ryan,” says Josh. “Tried to scare him off, and by ‘scare him off’ I mean ‘beat him to an inch of his life’.”

Tyler’s eyes widen, mouth falling open. He goes numb for a moment, trying to process. Debby was actually dating this guy? She was letting this lunatic put his arms around her every day? And Josh, that was why he had been trying so hard to get them both out of the bookstore in a timely fashion. Why wasn’t this guy a wanted man or something?

“We haven’t seen Ryan Ross in years,” admits Brendon tiredly, his usual pep lowered considerably. It’s weird to see him so…static. “Don’t even know where he is. So I guess Taylor’s plan worked.”

Tyler takes a deep breath. “Well, we have to tell Debby,” he says. “She needs to know what she’s gotten into.”

“When I find her again,” Josh says, suddenly serious, “I will.”

 

 

 

 

Tyler is singing absently to himself scrolling through the page on the laptop screen. He’s making up lyrics as he drags his finger across the mouse pad, singing softly about cherry red corvettes and piping embers, and searching half-heartedly for new apartments that have been rented out. Eventually, he’ll have to leave Brendon’s; he’s never been much for crashing at other people’s places, feeling like he was overstaying his welcome and intruding on their space. That was the last thing he wanted.

There was a little apartment nearby his old complex that was out for rent, just one bedroom, one bath, a small kitchenette- hell, this one even had a teeny little balcony. The heat didn’t work- Tyler felt both amused and a little unnerved by the irony of the universe- and one of the kitchen lights had since stopped working for unknown reasons, but it’s within Tyler’s price-range, so he really isn’t complaining.

He’s startled out of his skin when the bed gives way next to him and suddenly Josh is lying there, head precariously balanced on Tyler’s arm as he tries to get a better view of the screen. “Whatcha looking at?” he sings.

“Apartments for rent,” Tyler adds nonchalantly. He cards the other hand not working the keyboard through Josh’s red hair absentmindedly while he continues through the page. “Where’ve you been?”

Josh shrugs, his eyes now glued to the screen. “Everyone’s leaving in a few hours. I was helping ‘em get their things together,” he replies. He blinks owlishly in silence for a long, drawn out moment. “Why’re you looking for apartments?”

Tyler doesn’t register the change in cadence in Josh’s voice. If he did, he would’ve thought more about what his answer would be.

“I don’t have anywhere to live. I have to move out of the motel at some point.”

He can feel Josh squirm against him, clearing his throat, yet when he speaks, his voice still comes out small and like a whisper. “Brendon likes you, you know.”

More squirming.

“And you’ve been good for Dallon. Spencer trusts you.”

Tyler only now realizes what Josh is trying to force himself to say.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you staying here.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” says Tyler. “That’s rude.” He scratches his chest and hums quietly. “Are you going to stay?”

Josh winces, and this time, Tyler can feel it in his chest, right down to his core.

“I was thinking about it,” he says so quietly that Tyler almost doesn’t hear him say it. Tyler has no idea why he’s saying something like this, but the next thing that rockets out of his mouth is instantly regrettable. “That’s good. It’s good to be close to people who get you.”

Josh sits up so fast that he nearly knocks the laptop out of Tyler’s lap. “Why are you saying that? ‘People who get you’? What the hell does that even mean? _You_ get me.”

Tyler raises both hands in placation. “I mean, like, people who understand you. People who come from the same life as you. Y’know, people who _get_ you,” he explains quickly.

Josh still looks like he doesn’t understand, and worse yet, hurt and betrayed. It makes Tyler sick knowing him and his not-quite-there-yet mouth have made him this way.

“Stop, stop saying that!” cries Josh. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m not like them, Josh,” says Tyler. “I’m not like Brendon and Dallon and the others; I can’t relate to having powers I can’t control or anything like that. I’m just…normal. Brendon and the others, they can give you better stability than I ever could. They know what it’s like.”

“Stability?” Josh echoes. “They weren’t there when I tried to kill myself in that apartment complex. You were there! You brought me out of there and stuck by my side the entire time even after you found out how messed up I was. You were there.”

“No, you don’t have fire burning out of your fingertips or wings poking out of your back or some crazy stuff like that, but you get me, Tyler,” Josh suddenly seems more interested in the bedsheets than Tyler. Tyler is trying to find the words to comfort the redhead in front of him, but Josh starts talking again before he can.

“I mean, I just look at you and…I get it. _You_ get it. It’s like home, you know?”

He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “I don’t want to lose home again. Okay? This is me asking- begging- to come with you. Wherever you want to go, I want to be there with you.”

The key word is ‘with you’.

Josh wants to be with him. There has literally never existed anything that Tyler has wanted more than this (except maybe a red six-speed bike he remembers wanting from when he was six, but Josh was definitely way better than that). For a moment, Tyler just kind of blanks out. He’s not quite there, lost in a daze inside his own head, and it’s entirely Josh’s fault.

“Okay,” he says quietly. He weakly nods once, and then again with more assurance after that. “Okay. I want to be there. But with you. With you too.”

Silently, Tyler curses his lagging brain and his inability to eloquently construct a sentence, but it makes Josh smile, a tiny smile that bares a flash of pearl white teeth, so it can’t be that bad.

 

 

 

Patrick is throwing up in the upstairs bathroom, and it’s really distracting.

“You okay in there, ‘Trick?” Pete asks, near shouting to be heard over the sound of the empath emptying his stomach on the other side of the door. Patrick miserably mumbles something from inside the bathroom that no one can quite make out and then the retching noises start up again with a vengeance.

“He sounds awful,” Tyler comments, wincing slightly at the violent noises Patrick is making. It sounds like he’s crying too, but that’s obvious. “How’d he get sick so fast?”

Pete shakes his head, still knocking on the door to be let in. “I have no idea. If he would open the door, I could probably figure that out. He’s not allergic to anything.”

Eventually, the sound of a body being dragged across the floor grows closer and closer, and suddenly Patrick is leaning against the doorframe looking disheveled and pale with the door barely open. Tyler can see from the hallway how terrible the empath looks; shaking and wrinkled and in pain. Before he can ask what’s wrong, Pete beats him to the punch.

“What happened?” he immediately demands, shotgunning questions left and right. “Did you eat something weird? Does your head hurt?”

Patrick barely gets a word in edgewise in between all of these questions, and it takes him looking like he’s about to tip over for Pete to quiet down long enough for him to say something.

When he does say something, it’s more of a grunt than coherent words. “Head…sick…”

Pete lets him lean heavy on his shoulder and tries to make heads or tails of what Patrick is describing.

“…feels like…” Patrick paws feebly at his forehead. Pete only nods. Glancing at Tyler, he mouths ‘empathy’ and turns back to Patrick. “I’m gonna list off some words, and you tell me which one is closest to what you’re feeling, got it?”

He goes through six words: fear, confusion, disgust, anxiety, hurt, cruelty. The last one he gets right.

“Anger?” Tyler echoes. “From who?”

The household has been pretty mellow; hell, Josh wasn’t even angry at him before, just mildly worried. And that whole conversation had been about an hour ago.

Spencer is talking downstairs, voice high and sounding less than happy about something in the front yard. Tyler can hear his baritone voice rising up from the banister, calling to Brendon and Dallon, and he figures the answer to Patrick’s problem is right outside the front door.

“Hey, Bren,” Spencer says, doesn’t shout because his voice is deep and loud enough to be heard with little effort, “who the fuck is this?”

Tyler doesn’t know Brendon that well. Tyler knows for fucking certain, however, that a voice that cold and venomous doesn’t belong with someone as bright and vibrant as Brendon. Yet there it is, ricocheting off the walls of the house like a bell toll.

“No _fucking_ way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is fun.  
> Sorry for the long wait. Was preparing for college, and now that I'm in it, it just might be worse, or it might be better, it just depends. Guess who has a tumblr? Send me prompts at http://neonflavored.tumblr.com/.


	13. ignite

It makes sense that Patrick is throwing up in the bathroom. Tyler’s not an empath, but even he can feel the waves of fresh hatred rolling off of both Brendon and whoever it is outside. Three guesses, though, as to who it is. Tyler really hopes he’s wrong.

 

Josh takes off down the stairs, and Tyler can see the heat rising from his shoulders like shimmering waves as he descends the stairwell. He looks kind of like an angry Prometheus. It’s probably best that Tyler follows, otherwise things could get really awful really quickly. He needs to be there to calm Josh down.

He barely makes it to the front door, where its wide open, the brass handle steaming from where Josh has grabbed it, in time to see Josh stalking across the front yard towards a face that looks painfully familiar.

He swings, punches the guy across the face, and barks at him, “You’ll get out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

Taylor grins, rubs at his jaw where he’s been hit. “Huh. That’s weird. Thought that everyone was welcome at Bren’s place,” he says, getting back to his feet.

Josh narrows his eyes, fingers flexing. “You stopped being welcome when you went crazy on Ryan. No one here wants to welcome you back.”

The grin on Taylor’s face remains in place as he glances behind Josh. He nods.

“Hey, guys,” he calls at the open front door. “Long time no see.”

Tyler finally notices the audience in the doorway with him. Pete is leaning on the door now, looking none too pleased to see Taylor, the reason Patrick is still upstairs vomiting into the toilet. Gerard and Mikey are on the opposite side of Tyler, leaned against the doorpost, and it comes as a bit of a shock (ha ha) when Brendon comes shouldering past Tyler out into the open with Hayley in tow.

“Get the fuck off my lawn, Taylor,” says Brendon. He doesn’t looks tense at all, just kind of nonchalant, like he’s just yelling at the troublesome neighborhood kids. His voice says otherwise though, and Tyler’s pretty certain that if he could see them, there would be an electric sharpness about his eyes right now.

“Why are you even here?” this is from Hayley, who has pretty much asked what everyone was thinking. “Are you still so petty that you have to come hunt us down?”

Taylor might’ve said something if Josh hadn’t cut him off. “It doesn’t matter why you’re here. Get out.”

Taylor completely ignores him. “Hey, Gerard,” he shouts instead. It actually annoys Tyler who conversational this asshole is being. “You still fucking that tatted-up midget?”

Something flashes in Gerard’s eyes, and suddenly Taylor is yelping, grimacing for some reason. Tyler’s confused until he actually sees what’s going on. Out of the ground near Taylor’s foot, some thick thorny plants have risen up and wrapped themselves around his ankle. And from the looks of it, they might’ve have broken the skin.

Gerard says nothing in retaliation though, just lets the winding vines do the talking for him. It’s kind of scary how calm he is about the whole situation.

“Forgot about that,” Taylor grinds out between clenched teeth. “Fucking Snow White over there…”

And then, hell breaks loose.

 

 

At first, Tyler has no idea what’s going on. One moment, Josh is standing there, staring craters into Taylor, and the next he’s crumpling to the ground in a shaking heap. Tyler hears Pete swear next to him and then he’s being shoved back into the house, bumped around like a toy boat in a storm. Hayley is oddly calm outdoors, raising her hands in Taylor’s direction. It’s taken everyone a moment to realize what’s happened, until Taylor thumps against the air, his figure shimmering like heat in the sunlight. Hayley’s field flickers each time Taylor taps his finger against it.

Tyler breaks out from the audience at the door and guns it across the grass.

“ _Josh_!”

He hears his name being called –its not safe, everyone’s screaming- but Josh…Josh isn’t safe either. What happened? What did Taylor do to him?

He drops down in the grass next to the redhead, calls his name over and over. “Josh,” and recoils like he’s been burned when he touches him. Quite the contrary- Josh is freezing.

Okay, this is _really_ bad.

Josh isn’t responding to anything Tyler is doing. He looks pale, eyes and lips clamped shut, shivering. Whatever Taylor did to him has him acting the way he did in the motel. Tyler wracks his brain, sifting through the memory for anything that might help the situation. He feels eyes on him then, and even though he knows he’s being watched by Brendon and the others in the front door, he can only feel this pair. It feels tangible, the hatred he’s feeling. Its burning into him like cigarette burns.

Taylor is staring at Tyler through the field. He’s watching him pull Josh defensively into his arms, like he can shield him from Taylor’s hateful eyes with his own body. Tyler hears his name –vaguely recognizes Hayley’s voice- and suddenly Taylor is loose.

It happens in slow motion from there; Taylor lunging forward, slow and crawling like a puppet straining against its master’s strings, reaching, reaching for Tyler-

 

 

-and then he stops.

Literally freezes on the spot, mere inches away from Tyler. Tyler blinks. It takes him a moment to realize that he isn’t dead. Or is he? Is it one of those ‘out-of-body’ experiences?

He raises his arm. No. he’s still in control of his body movements.

Did time stop? Did he _make_ time stop?

He dares to take his eyes off of Taylor and turns back towards Brendon’s house. It seems everyone’s frozen there, too, but not to the same degree that Taylor has. They look confused, glance from Tyler across the lawn, to the newcomer that had forced his way between Brendon and Pete.

It makes sense now.

Dallon has one hand pressed against his temple, panting like he’d just finished running a mile. Sweat is dripping down his face in rivulets. He looks at Taylor, eyes narrowing in concentration. “You should go,” he growls, and it isn’t quite anger that makes his voice sound so terse. Taylor hesitates for a moment, then goes slack like he’d been holding his breath. When he straightens, he looks less like a rampaging animal, and more blank-faced than anything, like he’s under a trance; he backs up a few steps, then turns and walks across the yard to the vehicle that’s parked along the sidewalk.

He doesn’t stop moving until he’s in the driver’s seat and driving down the road.

 

 

 

“So,” Tyler looks up from where he’s wrapping Josh up in a number of duvets and blankets that Spencer found around the house for him to use and faces Brendon, “Dallon’s a telepath. With mind control powers and shit.” Brendon pauses and nods to himself. He adds, “that’s interesting.”

While Tyler is fussing over Josh, who still hasn’t woken up yet, Brendon’s got his hands full with the telepath in question. Dallon, after taking over Taylor’s mind, has a killer headache. Not ten seconds after he’d managed to get Taylor off the lawn, his nose began bleeding like he’d been punched, and for some reason, he’d mentioned seeing stars dancing across his vision. He’d promptly passed out against Brendon’s shoulder on the couch, and was now sleeping quietly on one of the arm rests.

Brendon looks up from him, still trying to get his shoes off of his feet. “Josh gonna be okay?”

Tyler nods. “This happened once. I just have to keep him warm and he’ll wake up eventually,” he says, and inwardly hopes to God that he’s right this time. He hums thoughtfully. “What…what did Taylor do? I mean, what’s his deal?”

Brendon makes a face that Tyler can’t really decipher. “Taylor’s…volatile. He’s got this weird touch, y’know? Concussive, I think is what it’s called. But anyway, he can knock people out cold with only so much as a finger poke, and he can turn it on and off at will. The only drawback is it kind of knocks him out too if he plays around with that shit too often.” Brendon shrugs.

“Science stuff, man. I think it’s kind of like when football players get concussions, y’know? Ever noticed how fucking crazy they are? It’s because their brains get all rattled around up there,” Brendon taps his pointer finger against his temple. “Same way with Taylor. Told you he’s a fucking fruit loop.”

“Why didn’t you guys talk him into getting help or something?” Tyler asks.

“You can throw all the advice at the guy that you want to,” says Brendon tiredly, “but he’s not gonna let anyone help him unless he wants them to. And Taylor’s a lost cause. He doesn’t want anyone’s help.”

“Do you think that’ll happen to Dallon?” Tyler blurts out, and then immediately feels bad for it. He hadn’t meant to ask that out loud, but really, after the whole thing with Taylor, it would be careless not to worry about a telepath like Dallon.

Brendon doesn’t take offense at all. He shakes his head. “Nah. Dallon’s got too many people that are looking out for him to do that. Me, Spence, the guys…and you.” Brendon smiles when he says it, one of his kilowatt smiles turned down low into a manageable grin.

“You’re one of us now.”

 

 

 

Josh blinks.

It’s dark in here. He can’t even see the streetlamp’s light against the blackened ceiling. Ugh, his head is killing him.

Josh blinks again.

And suddenly Tyler is leaning over him.

It startles them both, Josh jumps at the sudden closeness, and Tyler just being overly excited to see him awake.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Josh grunts after the initial shock is gone. He drags his wrist across his eyes and blinks furiously. “ _Tyler_?”

“I’m here.”

Josh twists his head. “Where…?”

“It’s okay,” Tyler reassures him, and really, that’s all Josh needs. “We’re upstairs. We’re still at Brendon’s house.”

It’s occurred to Tyler that Josh is trying to sit up, after listening to the sheets rustle and fold, so he reaches out and tucks an arm under his shoulders, pushing him into a sitting position.

“Taylor,” Josh grunts, massaging his temple.

“He’s gone,” says Tyler. “Dallon made him leave. Turns out he’s got mind control powers or something. How’s your head?”

“Feels like I got kicked in it,” Josh replies groggily. Tyler kind of wishes he could turn the light on to see him; a bedraggled, sleepy Josh was really a sight to see. It was adorable. “Are you okay? He didn’t, like, hurt you, did he?”

Tyler shakes his head and then realizes Josh can’t see him. “No, I’m okay. Really.”

Josh moves somewhere close to Tyler, and it’s a relief that he can feel the warmth rolling off of Josh like a space heater. “Can we turn the light on?” Josh asks.

“Brendon said it would be easier to help you recover if we didn’t turn them on,” Tyler says. “He says your brains probably got rattled around up there.”

Josh breathes out a laugh, sounding tired. “Feels like it. Sucks though,” he mumbles. “That means I can’t see your smiling face.”

Tyler snorts without meaning to. “Is this you trying to come onto me while your punchdrunk?”

“Maybe,” says Josh with no shame. The bastard. “That depends if its working or not.”

Tyler can practically hear him smiling.

“Maybe,” he agrees. “I may or may not want to kiss you right now.” 

i may or may not want to kiss you all the time, but Tyler doesn't say that. That's far too many words, and far too much time spent not kissing Josh. Which is unacceptable.

He hears Josh laugh, and fumbles in the dark and through the sheets for Tyler's hand, and just like that; Tyler ignites.

“So it _is_ working.”

 

 


	14. afterimage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> part ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i missed you :)

 

 

“So now what do we do?”

When Tyler asks this, he almost immediately regrets it. Josh glances at him from his left on the couch, looking mischievous with a hint of reckless playfulness glinting in his eye and his red hair slightly tousled from a long day of moving into the apartment.

Tyler barely has a chance to move before Josh is tackling him back against the arm rest, fingers scrambling across his sides and lips tickling against Tyler’s neck until he’s shrieking with laughter. Tyler bats at Josh’s broad shoulders, trying to pry him off, but really, who is he kidding?

He really wouldn’t change a thing about today.

Josh had helped him move what little he had with him into the new apartment all day today. Tomorrow they would work on moving Josh’s things in. But today had consisted of cheeky banter, sweat and shirtlessness that had taken a turn for the awkward when Tyler caught Josh staring a few times. It was nice to be ogled at.

Eventually, it had gotten too hot, and though Josh seemed to be doing fine, all things considered, Tyler figured it was time for them to head inside and cool off. Their new neighbor, a middle aged woman with, like, twenty cats, had made them lemonade, so they were sitting in the living room on the couch with the door open, sipping away at the sugary sweet drink in paper cups.

The door open did nothing to help keep a draft flowing through the apartment, and Josh’s natural body heat, warm like a car radiator, was not helping Tyler keep cool, smothered all over him on the couch. Tyler’s skin is sticking to the upholstery when Josh finally pulls back, grinning with his teeth and eyes.

They’d come a long way.

 

 

 

One of the neighbor lady’s cats escapes the apartment and Josh plays with it on the banister before he returns it to its home. Tyler watches him the whole time; he’s never seen Josh look so ecstatic before, even when he’s around Tyler himself. Its not like the cat could take Tyler’s place (he hopes) in Josh’s life as his primary lovegiver, and its nice to see him with such a bright smile on his face as he drags his shoelaces across the ground, watching the cat bat after them.

“We should get a cat,” says Josh with a grin on his face.

Tyler answers absently, chin in his hands, “we should?”

“Definitely.”

“A firestarter and his cat. That sounds…interesting.”

Josh flashes his signature bright grin in Tyler’s direction, and Tyler’s insides light up without even having to touch Josh. Josh says, “We could call him Fire. A red tabby with yellow eyes and a Tyler personality.”

Tyler grins.

“What’s a ‘Tyler personality’?”

“Sweet,” Josh lists off, offhandedly scuffing his feet to keep the cat occupied. “Compassionate, adorkable, covered in fuzz-“

“That’s not a personality trait,” interrupts Tyler. He raises an eyebrow. “Covered with fuzz?”

He’ll admit, before they’d left his place, Brendon had talked Tyler into growing out his facial hair a little, said it’d make him look less like a baby. Tyler absently runs his hand across his jaw, and sure enough there’s some scruff there. It’s not enough to brag about, just some stubble, but Tyler’s doubts it’ll eventually get to beard capacity. His face was never really great at growing beards and mustaches; it was like Tyler was still a teenager.

“I like it,” says Josh, nodding his head at him. Then he smiles again, and Tyler suddenly feels way more special than just second to a cat.

 

 

 

The phone rings. It’s the only thing that works at the moment.

Josh swallows his mouthful of lo Mein and reaches across Tyler’s back to grab the phone on the floor. “Hello?”

“Hey, you two lovebirds,” sings Brendon’s voice through the receiver. Josh grins beside himself. “How are things?” Brendon is talking so loudly that Tyler can hear him from the phone. He can picture him lounging on the couch, like a photo of Marilyn Monroe or something. Maybe Spencer is sitting at the other end, looking bored with a lapful of Brendon’s feet.

Josh keeps Brendon entertained over the phone, while Tyler listens in off and on. he could get used to this; it reminds him a lot of the night they spent in the motel when they first met. The night when it rained, and it was only Josh and Tyler and the sound of raindrops pattering against the window.

It’s not raining now, but it’s got the same cozy feel. The bedroom is pretty empty, save for boxes still left to be unpacked in corners. The lights haven’t come on yet, so the two of them are lying on the mattress on the floor, eating Chinese takeout by the light of a small battalion of Roman candles. It could be a fire hazard, but Tyler finds he isn’t as afraid of fire anymore. It’s kind of beautiful.

Tyler gazes at the tiny flames dancing along the candle wick, watches them twist and turn and curl like the ends of old paper. It’s like watching something living, something small and breathing on its own, jumping and leaping. Like poetry in motion.

It was an extension of Josh, after all.

It had been at least a week since the day that Taylor came back. Brendon and the others had helped them pack their things together, even going so far as to replace the things they’d lost in the fire, or at least Brendon did. Most of the gifts came from him anyway since he appeared, at least to Tyler, to be rolling in money. He gave them the mattress from the guest room for the filthiest, yet somehow most endearing, reasons –“you’ve already fucked on it; it’s got sentimental value now. Think of it like good luck vibes”.

Brendon had been really good to them. He’d already given them so much: towels, food, sheets, soap, all the essentials and had jokingly set up a wedding registry online to keep an eye on the things they needed.

Everyone had been there to see Tyler and Josh off. They hadn’t had a proper housewarming party, in Brendon’s opinion, but that was fine; the entirety of the week that they’d all spent together was enough.

Then they all went their separate ways.

Tyler was honestly sad to see everyone go. He remembered seeing Pete and Patrick on their way out together, Patrick shyly intertwining his index finger with Pete’s in the cutest fucking hand-hold Tyler had ever seen. He really hoped Patrick warmed up to Pete’s affections; they were so good for each other.

Hayley had punched them both in the shoulder, digging into Josh’s arm like a boxer. He had mussed her hair like an older brother, and the sight kind of made Tyler’s heart hurt. He remembered Gerard’s flower crown sitting atop his red head, remembered the forget-me-nots that sprouted up all across the yard. He remembered Mikey and Dallon and Spencer roughhousing goodnaturedly and Brendon smiling, Spencer running over and spinning him around until he shrieked with laughter.

Tyler lays his head on his folded arms, feels warm weight settle on his back and arms slip around his waist.

“Whatcha thinking about?” asks Josh in his ear. Tyler hadn’t realized he’d gotten off the phone.

“Everyone,” Tyler shrugs. “Kinda miss ‘em, y’know?”

Josh smiles, kisses the nape of Tyler’s neck thoughtfully. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a feeling you’ll see them again soon.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cryptic.
> 
> honestly, i couldn't let this go. i loved it as much as you guys did, so i guess we're going on this adventure again together. :)  
> please enjoy.


	15. simmer down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter for shit reasons.

Tyler wakes up in groggy intervals.

He’s uncomfortable for most of it, his skin sticky with sweat and his body slightly sore from sleeping in such an odd angle. His head kind of hurts, like the dull pounding of a hammer in his forehead. His mouth feels like a desert, dry and tasting of copper.

He remembers dreaming. It had been more like a nightmare than a dream; a nightmare about Josh. Tyler looks over at the red head. Josh’s back is to him, the soft sounds of even breathing indicating sleep, red hair mussed by the pillow.

Tyler usually thinks that Josh is a cute sleeper. At the moment, not so much. He’s glad he’s close enough to hear Josh breathing; he might’ve thought that he was dead if he hadn’t.  
  


 

Josh drowns in Tyler’s dream.

He’s dragged under the cold dark water, dark eyes wide and scared, and Tyler had been reaching for him, reaching, reaching…

He remembers trying to grasp Josh’s cold fingers, freezing from the depths of the water, but always being just a hair too far away. He was always just close enough to brush his fingertips, and then Josh disappeared.

Tyler remembers, too, biting down hard on his lip to keep from screaming, releasing all of his precious oxygen into the unforgiving depths of whatever hellish ocean they were sinking in. So that’s where the copper taste came from.

Tyler reaches up and lightly dabs at his lower lip. When it comes away slick, he sighs tiredly and rolls off the mattress. He pads to the bathroom, almost running into the sink because the lights still haven’t been turned on. He kind of wishes, as he fumbles around in the dark for a towel, that he’d gone ahead and woke Josh up, at least to light a candle so he could see.

It might’ve eased his mind too to know that Josh was okay and not millions of miles under the dark waters of Tyler’s dream.

Tyler cleans up and then goes back to bed, sneaking in a little closer to Josh, just so he can keep an ear out for his soft breathing. As long as he can feel the warmth on his back that Josh radiates naturally, he knows he can sleep easy.

His head still hurts though.

 

 

 

Tyler decides to stay far away from Chinese takeout for a while, thinking it had something to do with his weird dream the night before.

He’s still in bed around noon when Josh comes to wake him up.

“You’ve been asleep for almost the whole day, man,” he says, looking worried. He pulls off one of his oven mitts and presses the back of his wrist to Tyler’s forehead, and Tyler immediately flinches back. “That doesn’t work, dude,” he says, laughing softly. “You’re already superheated. Besides, you feel like a stove iron today.”

Josh looks sheepish. “Sorry. The sun’s out again today.”

Tyler tries not to look disappointed. “Again?”

They’d learned pretty quickly that summer was a dangerous period for Josh. He seemed to reach much higher temperatures under the summer sun than he did in spring or winter. Josh blamed the sun, which was probably right. Neither of them knew much about the science side of pyrokinesis.

To combat the near boiling heat of Josh’s inner core, Josh had taken to wearing oven mitts for protection and short sleeves to keep cool. Yesterday had been a hot day too, but Josh had been keeping cool in the best ways he knew how. Today, the AC, along with most of the power in the apartment, hadn’t come on yet.

“Are you feeling okay?” Josh asks, still looking worried. “You didn’t get heatstroke or anything did you?”

Tyler shakes his head and immediately regrets it. “I was out there in the sun just as long as you were.”

“Yeah, but I can handle the heat better. I’m bringing you an ice pack.”

“Josh,” Tyler calls in exasperation, “no. Why?”

“You’re warm.”

Tyler rolls his eyes. Josh knew better than to mess around with ice. He could handle a little handful of ice, sure, but Tyler always worried. He remembers the last time Josh’s inner core got cold.

“How can you even tell? How do you know it’s just not you?”

Now it’s Josh’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m not an oven,” at Tyler’s dubious look, he adds, “I’m human, just like you; I can tell the difference between hot and cold. And you’re hot.”

“Not as hot as you,” Tyler says, and makes a sound like comedic drums complete with dorky little finger guns. Josh snorts, beside himself, and kisses Tyler’s head. “You’re dumb.”

 

 

 

Tyler dreams the dream again.

This time, he wakes up gasping for air, throat raw, and covered in cold sweat.

He’d run out of air trying to save Josh, had screamed in frustration because he could never quite reach him before he disappeared.

He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until he reaches up to run his hands through his hair. He hears the sound of feet thundering across the floor, and suddenly Josh is there.

“Tyler,” he pants, “what’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

Tyler keeps shaking, his head keeps pounding, and Josh keeps murmuring to him. Everything is a blur and Tyler just wants it to stop.

“M’head hurts,” is what he manages to croak out. His head hurts, and that’s enough for Josh.

“Okay,” says Josh. “It’s okay. C’mon.”

He helps Tyler calm down, gets him a cold compress made out of a wet washcloth, and holds him close while he picks up the phone.

He calls Brendon.

“Bren? Hey, it’s me; I need a favor.”

 

 


	16. heatstroke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update. la di da

Tyler sings while Josh fucks him sometimes.

It’s one of the odd things about him.

It starts out as usual, as though he were just singing in the car or in the shower or just singing to be singing. Then as time goes on, it gets a little strained, choppy, like Tyler only has a little oxygen to sing with in his lungs.

Josh would never tell him, but he likes that bit best. Sixty seconds later, Tyler is having trouble carrying a steady tune, and relies more on humming than actual singing because it’s all he can manage. Then it’s just half-shouting, a few accidental expletives laden in between lyrics that don’t belong, and then the song is over.

Sometimes Tyler breathes the rest of the song through panting breaths while Josh lies next to him, but he finishes the song.

He’s determined that way.

 

 

 

Tyler wakes up in the hospital.

He vaguely remembers the first time he and Josh formally met; it had been in a hospital too. He wonders what happened to him. He doesn’t notice Josh until he sees a tuft of red hair out of the corner of his still-groggy eyes, and turns to see him.

Josh is sitting in a chair by the hospital bed, head bowed on the mattress, sleeping quietly. Tyler sighs –leave it to Josh to work himself up over Tyler’s wellbeing. He reaches up and cards his fingers softly through Josh’s hair, which immediately causes the redhead to stir.

When Josh peeks up over his folded arms, Tyler smiles. “Hey, man,” he says softly.

Josh grins sleepily. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” Tyler says weakly, trying to find strength in his voice. “What happened?”

Josh returns his head to its place in the crook of his arm and reaches for Tyler’s hand. “Not much. You had me worried though, you big dumb. The doctors said you just had a bit of a heatstroke,” he cuts his eyes accusingly at Tyler, who rolls his eyes, “’n that you needed to rest. And also that you need to stop being such a huge nerd.”

Tyler scoffs. “You’re one to talk. Nerd.” He looks around the room, a though suddenly striking him. “Oh. Where’s Brendon? Didn’t I see him on the way here?”

Josh grins and laughs softly. “Yeah, about that…”

Tyler frowns, his fuzzy memory slowly returning. “What?”

“Um, well, you did have heatstroke,” says Josh, clearly trying to stifle laughter long enough to keep talking, “and Brendon drove us here. You might’ve, kinda, sorta thrown up in the back of his car…?”

Tyler groans while Josh laughs wholeheartedly. “Oh, man. Did I at least apologize?” he asks once Josh has quieted down.

“Nope. Just passed out again. It’s okay though,” says Josh patting his arm. “He knows you didn’t mean to.”

“Where is he now?” Tyler asks, really wanting to apologize. He’d never been so mortified.

“Probably cleaning out the car. Really, it’s fine,” Josh says when he sees the look on Tyler’s face. Tyler only nods and runs his hands over his face. Then he remembers something.

 He grins, sly and knowing. “How come you never told me you liked it when I sang?”

Josh gives him a dumbfounded look. “I always tell you that. That’s, like, common knowledge.”

“No, I mean, when we…y’know.”

Josh’s face turns pink and he looks away quickly. “Jesus, Tyler. Really? Way to put me on the spot. Wait, how did you know that?”

“I don’t know,” says Tyler. He shrugs. “Didn’t you tell me that once?”

“No, because I was kind of embarrassed about it. How’d you know that?”

Tyler thinks its immensely cute that Josh gets flustered about the ins-and-outs of human nature, but he really doesn’t know where that came from. It just popped up in his head, like it had been in his brain all along. It felt familiar, but also out of place. But Tyler didn’t think that up. Those weren’t his thoughts.

They were Josh’s.

“Lucky guess?” Tyler settles for in the end. He changes the subject. “When can I get out of here? I hate hospitals.”

 

 

 

Ice cream is one of god’s greatest gifts.

Tyler quickly tries to catch a dollop of melted ice cream before it runs down the cone and earns a snort and a laugh from Josh.

“What?”

“You eat like an animal. Or a small child.”

“You’re one to talk. I once saw you scarf down three Quesolupas in a row,” Tyler retorts, turning his attention back to his ice cream cone. It’s been ice cream and ice cubes all day today. After the trip to the hospital, neither one of them are in any hurry to tempt the fates, so they combat the heat the best way they know how.

“They were really good tacos,” Josh simply says, not even bothering to deny the fact. He sighs and looks around the kitchen. “We really need to get the air conditioner up and running. It’s getting hot in here, even for me.”

“We could go swimming?” offers Tyler, and nearly stops in his tracks. He purses his lips together, wanting to take the words back immediately. The remnants of the dream play in the back of his head, very unwelcome, very unwanted. Before he can suggest something else, though, Josh wrinkles his nose a bit, says, “I saw the pool here when he moved in. I’m scared we’ll get eaten by some kind of sea monster; it looks like a sewer in there.”

Tyler laughs, trying to resolve some tension that only he seems to be feeling.

Crisis averted.

For now.

 

 

Brendon comes sailing in two days later.

He blows in like a summer storm, with Dallon, Spencer and gifts in tow.

“It’s your housewarming party,” he says cheerfully dropping a box into Tyler’s arms. “Although, it’s pretty hot in here on its own. Don’t you guys have an AC or something? It feels like I’m melting.”

“It won’t come on,” says Josh. “You just have to roast like the rest of us.”

Brendon frowns dramatically. “Bummer. Wish we had Bob here with us; he’d cool this place down lickety-split.”

“Literally no one says ‘licketysplit’,” says Spencer with an eyeroll. “And if we had Bob here with us, no doubt there’d be drama too.”

Brendon makes a face. “Oh, you’re right. Forgot why we kicked him to the curb.”

Tyler’s interest is piqued. “Why? Was it the same issue as with Taylor?”

“Bad vibes,” says Brendon, shaking his head. “Used to hang out with Gee and the others. Bad vibes all around, man.”

Tyler opens his mouth to say more, but stops when something catches his eye. It’s quick, like a flash, blue and crackling, and he recognizes it as lightning,

Brendon.

Brendon is suddenly in the corner, arms wrapped around himself, hair all tousled like he’d just been in a fight, looking somewhat different. There’s something about him, something off, but Tyler can’t seem to put his finger on it.

Brendon is staring at something from his huddle in the corner. He looks mortified, terrified of whatever is there in front of him and Tyler turns his head to see, expecting to see something gruesome.

He doesn’t see anything at first. And then he sees the body on the floor.

Whoever it is is lying a few feet away from Brendon, who has sunk to the floor by now. They twitch involuntarily, and try to stagger up, but their arms can’t hold them and give out underneath them. And then they speak. And Tyler knows who it is.

“Bren…” the person says, sounding weak and confused.

Spencer.

 

 

“…ler…Tyler?”

Tyler snaps back to attention, looking around frantically. Josh has his hand on his shoulder, looking at him with concern in his eyes, written ll over his face. “Tyler?” he says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Brendon,” Tyler gasps, and looks up to see the man staring at him, looking confused and very worried. And not in a corner. He looks the same. He looks fine. And Spencer is there too, just fine.

“You just got this really faraway look on your face,” says Brendon slowly, “and then you weren’t responding.”

Josh squeezes Tyler’s shoulder, gets him to look at him. “What happened, man?”

Tyler stares at him, his eyes clouded over in confusion. He couldn’t give Josh an answer if he wanted to. He had no idea what had just happened. He could’ve sworn that what had just happened had been real. Hell, it had been right in front of him! Had no one else seen it?

Was it just his imagination?

“Tyler?” Josh repeats. Tyler only shakes his head, fakes a small smile. “Just tired is all,” he says.

Bad vibes indeed.

Everyone believes him though, and that’s all that matters


	17. american dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back, back again.  
> went to a panic! at the disco concert last night, so i thought id celebrate by getting a chapter up for you people. also, please follow on tumblr for updates on this monster of a fic @neonflavored, i have a lot to say sometimes.  
> prepare for some heartbreak in the next arc.  
> you only have brendon to thank for that.

Tyler is tired.

He’s been asleep, yes, but his sleep has been plagued with dreams. They’re all different, but all the same in some way. He dreams of Josh and the water. He dreams of Spencer and Brendon, who had looked at him with a touch of concern when he’d left that afternoon. Like he knew what was really going on in Tyler’s head.

Did he?

As far as Tyler knew, he wasn’t a mind reader, but then, you could never tell with Brendon; he wasn’t as ditzy as he let on to be.

Tyler dreams of fire and lightning and large, slobbering, feral looking dogs. It scares him a bit, because wow, is he dreaming of _hell_?

He dreams of birds with bleeding wings, of girls with hair like fire, of glowing eyes.

Then he wakes up.

Josh is still sleeping soundly next to him when he opens his eyes. When locates his phone after a moment or two of blind searching, he looks at the time, groans when he sees that it’s only three in the morning.

He gets up and goes to the kitchen for a drink of water. May as well do something while he’s up and has no interest in going back to sleep. He’s had enough weird dreams for tonight, thank you. He stands at the sink while he sips his water. It’s a welcome splash of refreshment after lying on the warm mattress in the sticky night air.

Tyler stares down at the clear liquid in his cup, mind whirring to get the cobwebs of sleep out. He can’t stop thinking about the dreams. He keeps dreaming the same dream of Josh drowning in the dark waves, but he hadn’t even been asleep when he’d watched Spencer get electrocuted by Brendon. That had scared him more than anything. It had just _happened_ with no explanation or anything.

Brendon would probably call them bad vibes.

When he looks back down at his glass, gripped tight in his hand, it’s shaking.

Maybe he ought to put it down.

Josh is still sleeping in the other room, and Tyler’s not too keen on waking him up just because he had a nightmare. Placing the glass on the counter, he reaches up and kneads the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Where were these nightmares coming from?

They were all the same, over and over, losing Josh to the depths of some hellish ocean, waking up gasping and shaking. If he wasn’t so tired at the end of the hot, hot day, he might not have gotten any sleep at all, what with this recurring nightmare bullshit. Vaguely, he wondered if a telepath could help soothe his mind. Maybe he could ask Dallon to wipe the nightmares from his brains, just scrub them clean –could telepaths do that? Tyler had read something like that in comic books before when he was a kid.

He'll give him a call tomorrow.

Anything would be better than suffering like this.

 

 

They pressured Song into being the one to go back out into the dining room, arguing loudly in Cantonese and Chinese, Siamese and broken English, anything that would make her understand that she had to be the one to address the couple sitting in the lonely dining room. They shoved the paper box into her hands, her ginger root pale hands like trembling leaves, told her to go out and give the table in question the incense.

“But we don’t serve incense,” she’d protested.

And yet, here she was, weaving through the tables, mostly empty since dinnertime had long since passed, eyeing the table with some expression that was akin to painful nervousness. It wasn’t like this was her first time. She’d served plenty of couples, many of whom dined in the restaurant late into the night. She’d served plenty of seedy-eyed people as well, plenty of people who gave off a dangerous aura like a bad smell. But she…she had an odd feeling about these two.

Not necessarily a bad one, but one she still didn’t understand.

Song flinched. She’d been lost in her thoughts, nearly bumped her thighs into the table. She caught herself smartly and plastered the smile she’d been trained to don on her face, though now of all times it looked a little stretched and faux. Conversation between the two stopped and two pairs of strange eyes turned towards her. Garnet and amber, what a royal combination.

“Hi,” says the amber eyed one. He has short hair and a deceptively kind looking face. The other, the one with red hair and garnet eyes, he bears the same sort of disposition, but Song can’t deny that there is something…darker hidden underneath.

“Are you guys closing?” asks the dragon in human skin. “We can leave…”

“Oh,” Song offers the paper box to them, “no, I just wanted to give you these.” She opened the long, white container, “It’s incense.”

Song watched them carefully for fangs that might be lurking past their lips, signs of dragons. “They smell nice, wouldn’t you agree?” She offered one forward, a long, slender piece of thin, flat wood covered in thick powder at one end. This one was a dull dark color, not quite black, but not quite anything at all either. The dragon and his company light up, perking up like two children receiving a gift. “It smells good!”

Song smiled. “You have to light it first. May I?” She placed the burner on the table between them, minding their bowls and plastic cups of cola, and carefully put one end of the incense into a tiny wooden tray. From her apron, she produced a long necked lighter and lit the tip, forcing herself not to flinch when she heard the garnet-eyed man breathe in sharply. The incense flickered and slowly spread to life, like a tiny blooming flower. The powder was green actually, not black or grey, and once it had changed color, Song touched it to the next incense, then the next. By the time the third had been lit, its two lookalikes had begun burning all different colors: yellow that darkened to red, red that darkened to regal purple, purple that darkened to deep blue.

The garnet-eyed man tilted his head curiously as the scent reached his nose. Likeminded, his company stared deeply into the three tiny flames, as deeply as if he’d seen something within the flames. The tiny flames flickered against his dark eyes, casting shadows within them, something otherworldly. Slowly, the garnet-eyed man reached out, took up the incense burning closest to him. Song retreated slightly, like she might get burned if she stood and watched too closely. She watched the man inhale the smoke trailing in long pearl white tendrils and gasped when his eyes glinted ruby red in the light. His eyes half lidded, he looked as though he were in a daze -Song standing forgotten off to the side with her tray, until she looked up at her, pupils wide and breathed deep- and asked, “Can we get some of these to go?”

Song swore she saw flames licking deep in the back of his throat.

 

 

 

Tyler stashes the leftover Thai in the fridge and can’t resist sticking his head inside along with it for just a moment.

It’s still balming outside, even at midnight, and Josh has been giving off heat like a furnace since they left the restaurant. Well, even more so than usual, like, Tyler can’t even touch him without it feeling like he might burn himself.

“Aren’t you burning up?” he asks as Josh pads into the kitchen.

Josh shrugs, leaning heavy on the counter. Tyler turns then, realizes that Josh hasn’t said a word since the restaurant.

“Hey,” he says gently, stepping out of the refrigerator. “You alright?”

Josh looks back at him, lazily throwing his head back instead of actually turning around. His eyes are red –not like rubies, they’re back to they’re deep garnet looking color, but they’re red around the lids, like he’s exhausted.

“Mmhm,” he murmurs. “It’s…” he rolls his wrist, gesturing in the general vicinity of his head, “s’smoke. M’kes me…heavy.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow in confusion. Smoke?

“The incense?”

Josh nods languidly. “Fills me _all_ the way up,” he sing-songs.

Tyler thinks about the way it feels when he holds his breath for a long time underwater. Maybe that’s what Josh is talking about when he says the smoke makes him ‘heavy’.

“Okay,” he says. He crosses the floor and throws one of Josh’s arms over his shoulder. Even though it’s like carrying a hot water heater on his back, he helps Josh stumble his way to bed. “We’re taking you to bed.”

“Are you gonna sleep on the couch?” Josh mumbles, and he sounds so guilty that he might drive Tyler away with his ungodly body heat that Tyler forgets the fact that he’s practically melting underneath him. “No. Do you want me to sleep with you?”

Josh nods against his shoulder. “Smoke gives me weird dreams.”

Tyler frowns.

If the past few nights were anything to go off of, it looked like they were going to be stuck in the same boat.

“You ever dream about water?” asks Tyler.

Josh is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “Is this because I make fire happen with my mind?”

Tyler can’t help but snort at that. Make fire with your mind…that was an interesting way of phrasing that.

“No. It’s just…” he nibbles on his lip for a moment. Does he really want to have this conversation? It was already a weight on his shoulders having to relive the same nightmare every night, but to involve Josh as well? He didn’t want to scare him.

“Just what?” Josh murmurs, poking him in the ribs.

Tyler sighs. “I really wish we had a pool.”

Josh laughs softly, not picking up on Tyler’s lie. “Me too. I haven’t gone swimming in forever.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
